Unwell

I’ve been sick for over a month now. Since August, my asthma has been overly sensitive, then I got a cold and can’t seem to fully recover. I’ve cough so much I nearly pass out because I can’t stop—and actually have passed out (once last year when I had RSV, and the other night. I started coughing then woke up on the ground). Laughing causes the same result so I must be careful. My head hurts from coughing all the time.  Since breathing is compromised, I have zero energy. I have a nice stool at work on which to sit but getting things done around the house is nearly impossible. Taking the trash up and back absolutely winds me. I have one day off, like today, and all I want to do is sleep.  “ . . . to die, to sleep; No more; and by a sleep, to say we end The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep, To sleep, perchance to Dream; aye, there's the rub, For in that sleep of death, what dreams may c...

The Book I Love To Hate

"1984" by George Orwell is the book I love to hate.

Orwell gave us a masterpiece, pure genius as a kind of interpretation and commentary of where we were headed as a society--and we did arrive . . . not exactly a prophetic work, but we've been holding our breath since it's publication because many images are startling.

No matter how many times I've read it, I always root for Winston. I have to. For all that he symbolizes for "any man," I ache for him to win. But he never wins, and I hate that.

I'll probably read it again some day.
And perhaps I'll be hoping things change for Winston.
But they won't. And I know that.

And I hate that.

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