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Existence

Could this life thing hurry up and wrap it up already. I've obviously overstayed my welcome, I get it. 
At some point a semblance of normalcy has to rear its head. I have to wake up and endure traffic, office banter, politics and loadshedding like everyone else. I'd rather enjoy those things, than endure being in a body that relays its hatred towards me every 2 weeks. Essentially deeming me a hermitress.

Where was the need for an endometriosis diagnosis?
Why am I now defending myself against low blood sugar? Will I ever be worthy of having the right amount of oxygen in my bloodstream? Should my heart be labelled as failed when it was doing its best to help the lungs.

Excuse me, sir... ma'am Life, what can I do to free myself from your maze? In this damp cave that you've placed me in, is there a crossroads where I can choose to go to the left or the right? I'll take full responsibility of the outcome, but the journey and the sights and sounds throughout it are yours to own. 

What cruelty have you placed on me by giving me a plump, smiley face? It betrays me when I should appear as ashen as my internal organs. My obsession with spreading laughter like a crazed medieval womaniser, conceals the confined, afflicted spirit of the little girl who never found her own joy. 

Dear Life, or not "dear", just "hey."
Hey Life, your friend, Time, is even more cruel than you. He pretends to keep our lives in order, yet takes pleasure in dulling our senses as he passes. If we have to close our eyes for Time to pass, and he passes quickly when we are having a good time, then he is no good, no ma'am. 


I'd love to sit in on your daily briefings. Do you plan to do to us what you accomplish every single day or is there a quarterly conference where you discuss your dastardly key performance areas? 

Time does not allow me to fully express my loathing for both of you. Yet, I need you. 

Well, hurry up and wrap it up with me. Both of you! 
I am the fat lady, and I have sung. It should be over. Right? 

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