“It’s just a regular cold virus. Stop acting as if you have had a stroke!” Sandy said sternly to her roommate, the man-child. She rose to leave for work.
“Now remember to lock the door behind me. I will let your Boo know to call you later, ok? Gotta fly now.”
He’ll be the death of me trying to spread his germs! Sandy muttered to herself as she left for work. So glad I’m single, she thought,donning her mask. It’s good we didn’t sell them all, she thought to herself.
conscious and alive
non-existent and dead
i fear not
Carl Sagan (11/9/34 – 12/20/96) was an American astronomer, cosmologist, astrophysicist, astrobiologist, author, science popularizer, and science communicator in astronomy and other natural sciences. – Wikipedia
If you were like me, you inhaled the show “Cosmos” in the 1980s. Carl Sagan contributed mightily to my understanding of our universe as well as the various sciences he was involved in. He was someone I looked up to and learned from. Sagan had a great mind and a deep compassion for the living. He helped me make sense of things in a world that doesn’t easily give you understanding. I will forever be grateful to have been exposed to his mind and his rationale.
Although the fire was tiny in my dream, the real one was huge. I became a family of one overnight. I mourn the rest, which perished on that fateful evening. I lift my weary eyes, feeling torn –stay here being miserable or join those who burned. I rock in the corner, lurking like a shy intruder, still in shock. The tumbler in the door lock clicks, a nurse enters the room.
“Honey, these stories in your head aren’t the truth!” she says as she empties the syringe into my arm. The light slowly dims as the room fades away.
Years of depression punctuated by obsessive creativity brought him closer to the inevitable. Alcohol became his chosen poison. Lacking the proper nutrition and suffering from frequent bouts of insomnia – it only propelled him deeper into the black abyss. The delusions which led to his self-mutilation only further supported the theory – he was mad, and he felt all alone.
He had lost everything of value to him. There was an empty canvas on the easel, his colors, and tools. What would he paint?
Nothing. He was at his self-inflicted end. “The sadness will last forever,” were Vincent’s final words.