'Deathridden'

Bed rest has put me to rest in peace unofficially. That I see no hope in hoping for more hope. The gift of life has become a curse. What if I am not as sick as I am made to believe? What if I am bedridden and not death ridden? Or what if I am deathridden but just sugarcoating it to soothe my conscience as bedridden?

Waking up to death. A bed that has become a warm-up session to how a coffin feels like. The stench in the air I breathe is a constant reminder of how I will smell two weeks after my body decays six feet deep. To smell your caucus whilst you are still breathing. A curse or a blessing. Grace or a plague. To hope to see the next day but still question if there is hope tomorrow because today was the day you were hoping to see your hopes come to fruition but it was not so. The Doctor said, " bed rest", they said "bedridden" and I confirm it to be "deathridden."

Deathridden, " Breathing has become a struggle but I can not utter the words to the people around me for I fear losing my breath to tell them what they see resulting in my death if possible. Each time I see them I ask myself, " Is it the last time I see these people?" For I have seen them too many last times that I wonder if it is not a replay of events in a deathridden man's mind. The clothes they wear tell me it is a different visit but their facial expression communicates the same message as that before. What is the purpose of life now if I am a living caucus each day? Bed rest has put me to rest in peace unofficially and I see no hope in hoping for more hope."

Bedridden, "The more you rest, the more you are taken care of. The more you hope for yourself with the ones whom you love and who love you, the sooner you will get out of bed. The more life you see in your constant state the more hope for you to see life in a usual state. Hope is still there for you because you are still breathing. You will commit 'suicide' with the type of negative thoughts that you prescribe like 'deathridden'. Bed rest does not mean bedridden nor does it mean deathridden. You still want to live, don't you? Do you still want the pleasures of your soul and flesh? Do you still want your glory, relevance, power and your fight for the future? If the answer is yes, then keep hoping for more days of bed rest that will heal you."

                                        

                                     

Deathridden, "Have you ever overslept that when you wake up you feel ashamed but then you wish you had kept sleeping till the end of time that will never end? For the gift of life has become a curse. Have you ever taken medication as a formality and for prescription purposes? Aware that it will bring no change? Electrically charging and shocking a corpse. That is how it is. The only medication that I believe could and should be prescribed to me is an injection. A lethal dosage injection. Putting me out of my misery. I ask the giver of life, " Is this some sort of punishment for sinning?" If it is, then you have to revise your measures of justice. For it is no way to deliver a verdict. Why just not pull the kill switch and end this unbearable life? I could have motivated myself out of this but what if my death certificate has been signed and my tombstone cemented by an invisible hand?"

Bedridden, " If you never had a GOD, this is the time to seek and have one. If you believe in your armory, this is the time to believe and use the armory you were told to use but rejected because of pride. Injecting yourself with a lethal dosage? Have you become this hopeless in life that you hope for life after death either way you are hoping for death? Maybe you will appreciate your current position when you are dead and see no life in that. Have you ever tried getting out of bed and failed to? No, you have not even tried? Have you ever tried to get out of bed and prepare a meal for yourself? No, you have not tried that either? Have you ever tried to look after your hygiene and not be a mess of a living caucus to take care of? You know you have not because you have become comfortable with nurse aids taking care of you due to your title of bedridden come deathridden. What if you are not as sick as you are told nor do you believe? What if this 'deathridden' status is choking your lifeline of hope? No wonder why you tell yourself from different angles that, " To hope to see the next day but still question if there is hope tomorrow because today was the day you were hoping to see your hopes come to fruition but it was not so."

Deathridden, " You think I enjoy adapting to this status? What choice do I have other than to adopt? Do you think fighting death when it has made where you rest your temporary grave whilst it does the final touches to the permanent site is easy? In life according to the words of a great performer and artist Paul 'Triple H' Levesque, " In life it is either you adapt or you perish." For me, I have adapted to the deathridden status and not perish whilst trying to fight it. I am already deathridden Aren't I? So I have perished? I can not even have my last words nor can I have my words put onto a will. Of what value are my last words or my will to me when I am gone? Of what value are my last words and my will in my current state? Why did I have this life if it would end up like this? Dear bedridden, how does it feel to medicate yourself psychologically with false hope and the Doctor's

 the prescription that is keeping you more in bed to rest than getting out."

You do not know what death is like till you are bedridden, no sorry DEATH-RIDDEN.