January 16, 2005
-
We call it cold but it is nothing of the sort. Flames burn within, frying through resources and energy, making me weak, empty.
The body reacts pragmatically but not pleasantly. It closes doors,
blocks off passageways to starve the fire of oxygen. It then demands
that I consume liquids in large quantities to put out the flames. I
know not why chicken soup seems to be particularly useful for this
purpose, but the body demands it and I in my weakened state can do
naught but acquiesce. And soon I must also submit to the body’s
ultimate solution. Sleep.It is strange that we must suffer these things. Are they blessings or
curses? Momentary slow downs in the regular course of events. Like the
world forcing you to take a break whether you want to or not. It
doesn’t feel like a break. Internally you are fighting to put out an
inferno. But externally, you are facing none of the painful challenges
that plague your daily life. The mind is almost fully inactive. All you
do is react to the calls of the body. Eat. Drink. Sleep. Your entire
world is reduced to naught but these minor acts. Nothing else seems to
matter.And then it is over. Life resumes yet again.
