11 September 2007


I've been fighting this soporific spell otiosely for the past three hours. My head slowly droops into the pit of slumber then little voices in my head start to gibber and jerk me awake. This is something that a caffeinated brew can easily mend. Except that a cup of coffee right now can also easily make my blood-pumping organ thump faster than normal.

My head bullied my body into taking a walk. But walking feels like dragging two massive boulders. Any slight movement seems to make my head spin. No, I haven't been to a drinking binge. After a year or so, I finally labored a 30-minute exercise this afternoon and now, I feel like an arthritic septuagenarian. To add insult to injury, my mind flashes reruns of an older version of myself aided by a mobility walker.

How can the body be tricked by youth's ephemeral invincibility into thinking that it can just jumped into whatever activity it fancies?


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