Illness, it's an odd thing, we all have our own definitions of illness, mine is when one is unwell. Currently, I'm ill in many different ways.
I cough and it rattles my chest, reminds me of old dusty cobwebs in an attic, old, alone and forgotten. Sometimes I feel like that, forgotten, and I'm fine with it, sometimes you want to be forgotten, but other times it eats you alive and you feel like no one would care if you disappeared.
Sometimes I don't talk, I just sit there and watch the minutes tick by slowly. I hear conversations happen around me but I'm not aware of what they are about, I listen but I don't contribute, as I know no one will listen.
Sometimes I don't want to talk, but of course that's when people notice that I'm being quiet and think something's wrong. Nothing is wrong, I just don't want to talk, but no, if you don't contribute enough to the conversation, something must be wrong.
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Hope you like it, this is probably just going to be random thoughts that make absolutely no sense.
-xoxo C
