23rd August 2022

For year after year I recall vaguely, all really old memories are ever shrouded in veils of mystery, having a reoccurring nighttime difficulty, irritating but not dysfunctioning, that when laying prone with my head held at as very particular angle I would suffer lightheadedness, a case of the disorienting spins, not frightfully nauseating, but sufficiently unpleasant to force immediate adjustment. This happenstance continued for years unattended, grossly unconsidered, till recent events have made those ancient circumstances worthy of note.

I had reason but yesterday to state that quite categorically that I suffer no heath fears, I am ambivalent to threats medical, the worst scenario is assuredly foreseen, anticipated, prophesied by man and gods alike, irrevocable, unworthy of incapacitation, the die were cast long time and no amount of wiggling can escape manacles of fate. ‘Tis but the eternal presence of hubris, always a shade too little and too late, a millisecond delay voiding the flighted arrow, shoes made of lead rather than leather.

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