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I find myself in an incomprehensible position... a situation real enough to kill me, should I lose my balance on a loosening tightrope. Yet so surreal I sometimes think my death will be nothing more than an instantaneous vaporization of the molecules I call my body.
I am dying... we are all dying.
But for most of us, living life prevails over the ever present pull of entropy.
This is as it should be. We are born to experience life to its fullest until our death. But like breathing, it is that space between the breaths which sets the tone for what follows.
I do not fear death, nor do I invite it.
I reside in a world full of high tech medical miracles and doctors who perform them. It is, therefore, inconceivable that amidst these doctors and their state-of-the-art 3D scanners capable of turning the human body with its every secret and function inside out; to see how things work or might be fixed when they don't, that the simple mechanics of what is killing me remains a mystery.
I am dying in real-time,
begging at the same-time,
to be fixed, or at least, that an attempt be made,
before there is no-time.
Doctors.. made of special stuff, or so we think.
Different from us.
Different from each other.
Different.
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Lucille Iacovelli
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