i feel like a dying old man:P coughing and wheezing away. with hardly any energy left to keep afloat this hazy misty sea of drowsiness. how many fingers do i have? i lift my hands up and see that there are none.
my body fades, my senses a blur, yet i continue with my work. mechanical. the physical realms doth cease to exist. i am aware of nothing but what is to be done, and with that knowledge, i fight against the waves that crash, that hold on dear. to what? to the truth i know so clear.
why the talk? i do not wish to talk. give me my rest and give me my sleep.and give me my consciousness to keep.