Walk my dying body

On the 16 February 2021, many (way way too many) pieces were buried in my black part of my brain. They were dead, or really close to be dead.

Slowly (way way too slowly) I am digging up the almost died things in the tombstones of my head.

Every day I look for new and old pieces in the void area of my brain. I try to bring them back up to live again. Come back from my history, open to the world, please see it again.

Welcome back.

There are so many words and sentences and my meanings, that slowly are getting alive in my brain, and getting really alive by being talked and being written.

It feels like for every word I get back from the dead brain area, I lose one thing in the body.

I can’t get both, it seems. I pay my words with the right hand I used to have.

If I find a nice word, I must give something else back.

How can I trick me? How do I get getter my body and save new words?

Change advanced linguist for some dead meat? Sure! Every day.

But still, why can’t I have both?

I was out walking today.

I start look at this.

Why do I see the problem I have, only?

That’s stupid. And so unnecessary, so bad, so negative.

That is not me!

Nine months ago, I was trying to stand up. Literally, I could not stand up.

The only thing I know was to try and try and try and try more.

So when I was out the forest path, walking and thinking of me.

I can stand now.

I can walk.

I can stand with one right foot, on an old cut pine tree, holding my balance, and take a picture.

I’m good.
Sure, I have a lot of problems and work work work,
every and every and every day.

But I’m good.

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