Saturday, March 04, 2006
Of Being Unbeing
It’s been a while since I felt like this. Snowed-under, rushed off my feet, on top of being put in a straight jacket rolled into samosa shape and fed to the gremlins. Life really is speedy Gonzalez sapping energy that of E equals em cee squared. I am so shattered.
I always thought no matter what happens I will make time to write in bluescrubs. I will write no matter what. Because I like to prove people wrong and I always like to bend rules. Not this time.
I’m afraid being a doctor, success of being one is made up of certain elements. And it’s a balance between the presence of those elements and the inner demonic slacks in an imperfect being like me that would determine whether or not you’ll make it plain sailing. Whatever it is always, blame self because it’s only the self that you can change.
When speaking to Cik T that day, I was most frustrated. She said sometimes, lying next to him in bed he would say, ‘Do pat me gently from time to time, and see if I am breathing still, I want to say goodbye before I go’. My chest felt most tight. It wanted to explode but only tears appeared.
When talking about the man. Ubistela has written a fine piece about the man. Something I could just cut and paste. But for now, I’d be lucky to have time to stop and look at one. Let alone say hi and bat eyelids.
Now whose fault is that?
I always thought no matter what happens I will make time to write in bluescrubs. I will write no matter what. Because I like to prove people wrong and I always like to bend rules. Not this time.
I’m afraid being a doctor, success of being one is made up of certain elements. And it’s a balance between the presence of those elements and the inner demonic slacks in an imperfect being like me that would determine whether or not you’ll make it plain sailing. Whatever it is always, blame self because it’s only the self that you can change.
When speaking to Cik T that day, I was most frustrated. She said sometimes, lying next to him in bed he would say, ‘Do pat me gently from time to time, and see if I am breathing still, I want to say goodbye before I go’. My chest felt most tight. It wanted to explode but only tears appeared.
When talking about the man. Ubistela has written a fine piece about the man. Something I could just cut and paste. But for now, I’d be lucky to have time to stop and look at one. Let alone say hi and bat eyelids.
Now whose fault is that?
