prosaic

i am sick of it all, and i want to sit here and say that, i cannot take it. the problem with that is i know i can. i have. for years at a stretch. and maybe that should be encouraging in some way. but it is not. instead i know that i can put up with it for years, and so that is what i will end up doing. it is so frustrating.

and what will be different in two years, three, twenty-two? anything? to be honest, i do not know. and i cannot lie and say that i am hoping for something in particular, because i am resigned to it. my whole spiel about the "i don't believe in beatles" lyric was all for naught it seems. i finally agree with john. it hurts a little to admit it, but i am finally beat down enough to give up a little more na�vety.

the other night i watched a program that was on pbs about people with massively debilitating injuries. a two year old boy who was all but dead until his newborn brother was a perfect stem cell match; a teenage girl who was paralyzed from the chest down who can now use her arms and is getting movement back in her feet and legs; heart patients that are receiving treatments that are restoring heart function following heart attacks that would otherwise leave them bedridden for the rest of their lives. and the point was that these people could move on and get better with stem cell therapies.

and it was very moving to see these people in these situations simply turning their life around to what they wanted it to be. and as i sat there, touched by the stories being presented, i knew that i was not like them any more. i do not expect to regrow new cardiac cells, new nerves.

i do not expect much of anything. not anymore.