Sometimes walking across the room, is a mental and physical strain. I know I would enjoy myself, but I wouldn't enjoy the pain. You think I'm being difficult. Believe me, that isn't true. You can't begin to imagine, all the things I'd like to do.
Nobody willingly gives up, all the pleasures of the past.
We fight to hold on to them, wishing forever they would last. My life now has limitations, far more than you can see. I remember the force, the face, the factors, the memories are embedded, not wanted. Lives of warmth and need are replaced by chemical thought and induction. Connectivity is relinquished to the fear of abadonment and pain.