Unwell

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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...

Joseph Conrad, on Art

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"A work that aspires, however humbly, to the condition of art should carry its justification in every line. And art itself may be defined as a single-minded attempt to render the highest kind of justice to the visible universe, by bringing to light the truth, manifold and one, underlying its every aspect. It is an attempt to find in its forms, in its colours, in its light, in its shadows, in the aspects of matter and in the facts of life, what of each is fundamental, what is enduring and essential--their one illuminating and convincing quality--the very truth of their existence. The artist, then, like the thinker, or the scientist, seeks the truth and makes his appeal."

(Joseph Conrad's Preface to "The Nigger Of The 'Narcissus'", originally published 1897 )

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