I am sick since weeks and is not getting any better are worse just different and every time I think the change is to the better ,this is an illusion of strength and control, luring me into my safe space of the right function.
The doer, shaker and mover, persistence is working my diffused persona, or I am still trying to be the koolest kid at the Sandkasten. I have fear of unimportance, death, maybe I I'll just
fade, why I am bothering , struggling to express myself in any refined way , even my
existence is such an hard to reach thing/ experience.
Each day since a fortnight I go tomorrow will be better, thank you please .
Every time I try to break out of my sick circle sth goes very wrong,
last Tuesday I went to my G.P. because it is going on for some time.
I come through a waiting area, there sits an old man with a pale and grey face. Black and shiny
long hair, a crouched x on a stick.
At the counter: Guten Tag kann ich Ihre Karte haben. .?
A dull sound from the waiting room, stones in a sandbag on floor . I look, he fell over, flat on his face. Two nurses, and the doctor are on him, call on ambulance.
I feel bad for just being sick ,not helping the dying and not being serious ill, just weak
and speechless since 12 days. It goes all very quickly , the out of normal state is in progress, the sirens, the white dressed men and 1 woman. I am in the meantime in the other waiting room, with a young girl and a approximately 9 year old boy. He plays with her smarthphone, large waiting room, Londonphotographs printed on canvas by IKEA on the wall. Red phone booth and red bus. White walls, everything clean with cute creative additions, painted stones in the Orchids. you can't leave now because they can't move him. Get this,now get that, that and that now. Him looked gray and stiff, would like to talk About the weather with the big brown eyes. Dr. is small Chinese woman. She could not help the old man, except turning him to the side, taking the pulse. The white young men bring the air and the pump and and pump. Hard not to listen. Sitting, waiting, praying and wishing for the old man.they bring him back , with the air and the pump, the carry him down the narrow stairs to the hospital, assume. Dr. Wang-Resneck is seeing me now. We can't find out what is wrong with me and she decides on a blood test. I make an appointment with the nurse. In week ,before 9 o' clock in the morning , sober. I never came back.
