My mind is a valley of utopian thoughts. That is a door I open for all, but people want to rush into my heart. When did I become so easy?
My wind pipe is narrower than my heart valves. I have been breathing through my mouth and my lungs get tired often. That’s a lot of labour. When did existing get so difficult? Meanwhile, the world is shrinking each day and mean people get closer to me. So much that taking breath is a tug of war with an unknown enemy.
My arms have low stamina, especially my left arm. I have been dragging all my burdens over my right shoulder, slogging like a sloth. May be, because I’m a single-arm worker, it’s taking years before I reach somewhere. Will I even come close? – I wonder.