Date:   5/16/2014 1:36:16 AM ( 10 y ago)
Hits:   1,148
URL:   https://www.curezone.org/forums/fm.asp?i=2174127

Thank you for your post.

I suspect the drugs only knock down the numbers.
At this point in my traverse they don't 86 the phuquers.
Just knock them down.

A lousy kind of life/existence as far as I'm concerned.
Always tied to going to the local stable/farm supply store to get horse/livestock meds to moderate an infection that could kill/maim/cripple if it didn't encounter muting, fight back.

I'm already a familiar face at one.
The same guy usually takes the money.
I must have some ranch spread.
Or some unspeakable infection from hell that just won't totally go away. Yet.

I've resinged myself to the very likely prospect of life-long dealing with this.
I pray often for a quiet death in my sleep.
A deliverance to a better place.

But I always wake up, after sedating myself with chemicals/alcohol to the pass-out stage just to get some, "sleep."

I hate it all. Hate it with a passion I've never had.
I cannot accept it. I still resist. I still fight.

But I'm getting tired of being tired.
Tired of my life being consumed by something that requires magnification to see.
Tired of having to brush sheets/pillow before going to bed.
The electric bill was sky-high with washing.
Simply could not and can not afford it.
A ritual of brushing/picking up worms and whatever before turning in.
I do it as the alcohol and pills take effect.
Every phuqing night.
Every damned phuqing night.

I am weary.
I'm angry.
I'm fighting depression.
I can't do so many things I'd rather because I have to contend with this crap.

Somewhere there are someones responsible.
Psycopaths. Sociopaths.
Heartless. Soulless. Children of a devil that has control over the world.

Judgement Day is already upon us all.
More to come.
More to come, no doubt.

Where is a loving God in all this?
I ask every day, numerous times.

I intend to Stand as best I can.
What a sad end to a life as far as I'm concerned.
I'm old. To end up here hoping and praying for death is a really crummy place to be.

Still I put up a fight. Resistance.

It seems I have to, that it is the thing to do.

I'm angry. Mad as hell.

Yeah... the meds don't cut it.
It still lives.
And barring a miracle will continue to live.

I do pray for a miracle.
Every day.
Several times a day.

There is no salvation or deliverance in the meds.

Only God can take this thing from me.
That much is painfully obvious.

And for a God to allow this in the first place means calling on such a God is a monumental act of faith and hope.

So far, no go. No luck.
Just despair.

I will see what I will see.
Experience what I will experience.
As will we all.
 

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