A stomach ache, an altitude sickness
The energy evaporates, the dreams fade
The zest for living is plucked, and the great fire cinders to smoke
Im not coughing. Not laughing. Not anxious. Not afraid.
I am under the submission of my human apparatus, and it owns me.
A banana for breakfast, potato chips for lunch, potato chips for dinner, 11 hours of sleep.
My health is all I have.
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