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cold

I woke up from a bad dream around 4. I dreamed that I was trying to heat some sort of chicken stew in a microwave, but someone had put a metal can in the microwave and it exploded. The explosion destroyed my left arm.

I now believe I will never be able to write any sort of poetry again. Something in me has vanished or something has been broken beyond repair. It doesn’t really matter any, we’re all fundamentally broken in some way and now I’m just a little bit more broken than I once was. We like to imagine ourselves as beautiful and happy, but wishings are rarely commensurate with reality. And this is the reality of me. Broken, unknown, unable to speak or communicate. It’s fairly odd and humorous then I work on this idea of learning another language now, isn’t it?

It took some time to fall back asleep. I couldn’t get a good comfortable warm feeling under the blankets. Even though it was warm enough, it didn’t feel right. But that’s like most everything now. Often nothing feels quite right. My hands hurt. My shoulders hurt, especially the left one which got all frozen up. Stretches are now making some progress on thawing out that shoulder, but it hurts. I push the arm to the limits of its motion — after about 5 seconds it begins to get achy. After 10 to 15 seconds it usually gets painful enough I have to take a break. Then I do it again.

Smiling feels awkward and something that ought to be forgotten.

It doesn’t matter.

Sometimes it feels like my ribs are being squeezed and it’s an uncomfortable sensation of being suffocated. I felt that while I tried to go back to sleep after the bad dream.

I don’t much like this world. I don’t much like me.

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