Myopic Thoughts

<Read>: some of the things I’m about to describe may disgust a few readers. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

It’s amazing what one finds whenever one dissects a dead guy’s vital organs. This afternoon I pulled out a parasitic worm from the cadaver’s small intestine. It was approximately 4.5 inches long. I accidentally found it as I was poking around the open second portion of the duodenum (I was trying to find the ampulla of Vater- elusive little "bump"). The intestinal worm had a dull yellow color, with visible rings around its body similar to those found in the common earthworm. Poor fella. Oh, I’m referring to the dead guy, of course.

Comincio a girare il mio bozzolo ancora. Perché è una fase cosí senza fine per me? Oh, e dirle la verità, sono adesso diagnosticato col nephrolithiasis, sull’infezione di tratto urinarie e sul prostatitis. Viverò. Ma non sarò mai lo stesso. Qualcuno me risparmia.

"We had the right love
At the wrong time
Guess I always knew inside
I wouldn’t have you for a long time

Those dreams of yours
Are shining on distant shores
And if they’re calling you away
I have no right to make you stay
But

Somewhere down the road
Our roads are gonna cross again
It doesn’t really matter when
But somewhere down the road
I know that heart of yours
will come to see
That you belong with me

Sometimes goodbyes are not forever
It doesn’t matter if you’re gone
I still believe in us together
I understand more than you think I can
You have to go out on your own
So you can find your way back home
And

Somewhere down the road
Our roads are gonna cross again
It doesn’t really matter when
But somewhere down the road
I know that heart of yours
will come to see
That you belong with me
Letting go is just another way to say
I’ll always love you so

We had the right love
At the wrong time
Maybe we’ve only just begun
Maybe the best is yet to come
‘Cause

Somewhere down the road
Our roads are gonna cross again
It doesn’t really matter when
But somewhere down the road
I know that heart of yours
will come to see
That you belong
With me"

Dunque questo è che sente come quando un di morire. Non fa il senso. Con emozione, comincio a sentire intorpidito come bene. Anche se non raggiungo gli scopi che ho regolato per mie, a volte non sembra importare più. Sono usato per addolorare. Desidero appena che avrei potuto essere meglio. Che avrebbe potuto lavorare. Che non era troppo giovane, o non ero troppo vecchio. Che non era questo difficile. Lo parto fino al Signore per guarire me, fisicamente, con emozione, spiritualmente. Non voglio morire. Non ancora. Voglio lottare, nonostante non so che che la forza sia tuttavia sinistra interno di me.