Short And Sweet!
Cautiously hopeful that all my symptoms have stabilized, but not altogether sure of it. I still have the short-term memory loss, and I know this won't improve, but it hasn't gotten worse, so I see that as a good sign. I'm almost 64 after all, so nothing reverses now anyway.
"From the minute we are born, we begin to die". Who said that? Damn if I know. I googled it, and although many people use the quote, no one attributes it to anyone. Nietzsche, Kafka, Crosby, Stills, Nash, Freud, Marx, Engels or Jung? Like I said, I don't know, but it's true. Our cells begin to die once we hit the open air. I can't remember it, but it musta been nice and warm in mother's womb. No wonder we get slapped on our butts when we exit: it's like a "welcome" of sorts to a world of pain and death - however they manifest themselves. In between we try to find a little happy-time, and some of us do.
I'm still keeping up and promoting my German friends ("my boys"), "Copper Smoke", and continually finding more and more out about Markus Rill, who, in my opinion is the best poet/singer since Dylan. If he reads this, it isn't mean to embarrass, but is a genuinely sincere observation. This guy, although yet to see 40, sings like he's lived forever. The song at the bottom of this entry is about Alzheimer's, and since we've become friends, he's used a bit of what I write as his inspiration. On behalf of all of us, Danke, Markus.
Dondra's developed some more lung problems. We don't know specifically what is wrong, but we've ruled out pneumonia or anything viral, so we're looking elsewhere. She asks that you please keep her in your thoughts and prayers. Because we're both respiratory therapists we know what it could be, but neither of us are saying it out loud. She's had some lung testing this past week and we should know something soon about what's going on.
Autumn is settling in just fine here in Georgia, after a very mild Summer, and my bicycle is in the shop for a tune up. When I get it back, I'll be riding the trails to see the beautiful leaves changing their colors.
I hope you're doing well, wherever you are, and I appreciate your reading my drivel here. My writing has been sporadic of late, but it's just because I've had nothing to say - not because I'm dead or anything. Follow me on Facebook if you wish. Sometimes I write stuff there which doesn't appear here and my handle there is Wilhelm Trommler.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Markus Rill
"From the minute we are born, we begin to die". Who said that? Damn if I know. I googled it, and although many people use the quote, no one attributes it to anyone. Nietzsche, Kafka, Crosby, Stills, Nash, Freud, Marx, Engels or Jung? Like I said, I don't know, but it's true. Our cells begin to die once we hit the open air. I can't remember it, but it musta been nice and warm in mother's womb. No wonder we get slapped on our butts when we exit: it's like a "welcome" of sorts to a world of pain and death - however they manifest themselves. In between we try to find a little happy-time, and some of us do.
I'm still keeping up and promoting my German friends ("my boys"), "Copper Smoke", and continually finding more and more out about Markus Rill, who, in my opinion is the best poet/singer since Dylan. If he reads this, it isn't mean to embarrass, but is a genuinely sincere observation. This guy, although yet to see 40, sings like he's lived forever. The song at the bottom of this entry is about Alzheimer's, and since we've become friends, he's used a bit of what I write as his inspiration. On behalf of all of us, Danke, Markus.
Dondra's developed some more lung problems. We don't know specifically what is wrong, but we've ruled out pneumonia or anything viral, so we're looking elsewhere. She asks that you please keep her in your thoughts and prayers. Because we're both respiratory therapists we know what it could be, but neither of us are saying it out loud. She's had some lung testing this past week and we should know something soon about what's going on.
Autumn is settling in just fine here in Georgia, after a very mild Summer, and my bicycle is in the shop for a tune up. When I get it back, I'll be riding the trails to see the beautiful leaves changing their colors.
I hope you're doing well, wherever you are, and I appreciate your reading my drivel here. My writing has been sporadic of late, but it's just because I've had nothing to say - not because I'm dead or anything. Follow me on Facebook if you wish. Sometimes I write stuff there which doesn't appear here and my handle there is Wilhelm Trommler.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Markus Rill
Comments
Ich hoffe es ist ok für Dich, dass ich hier lese?!