Daffodils or death

I've been thinking more often about death lately, not in a morbid, fearful way, but more in a distracted «Oh yeah, I'm gonna die» way, and the reason is probably cause I've been feeling so crappy, because of my allergy.

Now that the weather is getting milder, Mother Nature is bursting out with buds and sprouts and fibers and hairs: allergy season is here. For the next couple of months, I will go through life leaking fom my nose and eyes, unless I stuff myself with pills and eye drops, which I do. So for the next couple of months, I will go through life as if I were dying a v-e-r-y s-l-o-w death. I'm tired and sleepy all the time, every step is so much effort and I can barely think. Because I constantly feel weak and lethargic, I feel like eating all the time, but everthing tastes bland and unsatisfying. I'm surviving more on coffee than anything else.

So, death... Of course, I'm not ready. I walk (slowly) around the house, thinking: my Kwanyin collection should go to this friend, my rabbit furcoat is for that friend, the house is for Asparagus, etc.. and then I crawl to bed, running (slowly) from the burden of writing my will. I wish for a quick death, cause I can't bear the tedium of writing a detailed list of all my belongings. As I sink into a slumber, I have one last thought: I hope my dog dies before me, cause who will take care of her? I'm starting to blubber at the idea of her death. No, wait a minute, I'm only crying from the left eye, it's just the goddamn allergy...

I guess I can't just end this post with gloom and doom, even though death right now is preferable to allergy symptoms. So here's some cheery picture for you. Me, I'm busy dying.