For Glory

Next week's the open water swim. Will I die? Will I live? Something lurks at the back of my mind, urging me towards the former, as logic insists on the latter option. I tried preparing the eventualities, and I ponder what would it be like if indeed I leave with the Reaper. Would it be like the time I lost consciousness? Where I have no sense of anything at all? What would I miss if I am to leave just like that? Am I ready for that? Mere rhetoric.

Gobbledy-gook

Sick again? Trying to fight, spent all my life fighting, so a few more fights with my spent self won't matter. Spent the entire day in bed, musing, mulling over the prospects of working. What would I do if I don't do this? All this garbled speech takes me nowhere. Am watching the romantic comedies again and it delights me, although I am hesitant about the actualities of love.

Call

What do I want,
what do I need?
What should I do?
What can I do?
Oh Will, guide me, guide me,
tell me what to do, what to do,
that I may pass the week
with my sanity intact.