Earlier this year I was diagnosed with a chronic disease, that is, something I will be carrying around until it takes me down, or takes the possibility of doing something of my life I had planned and now I need to hurry - running out of time? Sadness, denial? Maybe, but what the hell, mostly: it is incredible how the possibility of death or the simple barrier between you and your dreams make you alive. Life gets more colorful. You smile more, god knows when you'll cross that person again, or see that place again. Maybe next time you won't be in a good shape at all, let it be in 60 or 80 years, whatever. What do you know? I thank the threat of death for making me see life brighter. My biggest fear of dying asking myself "what if" has been cross checked. Life's good, I don't feel betrayed by it, I think it gives me a chance. Thanks, I'll take it. That's all there is.
I'm not a very dramatic person that makes a big deal out of stuff and maybe this is nothing at all, but insightful experiences always leave a mark on you. And that's the good stuff, by the way. Maybe this is not killing anyone AT ALL, but just killing some possibilities, for some people, that's death dressed not in black, but in some other color.
Doctor's recommendation: smile at the face of death.
A book to read: Saramago, As interminências da morte.
I'm not a very dramatic person that makes a big deal out of stuff and maybe this is nothing at all, but insightful experiences always leave a mark on you. And that's the good stuff, by the way. Maybe this is not killing anyone AT ALL, but just killing some possibilities, for some people, that's death dressed not in black, but in some other color.
Doctor's recommendation: smile at the face of death.
A book to read: Saramago, As interminências da morte.
Comentários
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