My Plagues…Feed On Me

I’ve known never everything about myself, and acceptance is conflicting. From my earliest memories I can recall me drifting. I felt loved and unknown, a confused confusion. I guess I spent to much time alone.

Time it seems was my first plague; as my innate selfish consumption for a whole and balanced existence wrestled for control. Time is, and all others must conform.

All others seem distant, I was verily there. I could easily too disappear. My distance will plague you.

As for the plagues that slow me down, there are a few; and they’ve even tried to kill me too.

Asthma tried when I was two, my mom tells me and it was the horror of ages. I can only recall doctors offices and the symptoms of course, for none of which I felt dead.

And then there are my allergies, blood group predispositions, personal beliefs:

No diary
Not too much citrus or protein
Not too red blood cell enriching food
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah


…okay maybe I don’t enjoy writing about myself.
I do know I love hair, and it plagues me that mine is as he is. Alas my whole temple is extreme.

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