Chega a enfermidade sempre no momento inoportuno, non molestan tanto as dores que me trae como a desorganización que me deixa.
E a doenza non viu antes porque estaba tan atarefado eu que non topou unha fenda no meu horario por onde coarse.
Teño tantas tarefas pendentes, que continuaría correndo trala morte, de feito ás veces penso se sigo aínda vivo ou xa estou únicamente imaxinando unha vida e o meu corpo xace inerte nalgures.
Illness
Illness always comes at the wrong time and it is not as much the pain that it brings as the disorganization it leaves me with.
And the disease did not arrive before because I was so busy that it did not find a hole in my agenda to sneak.
I have so many pending tasks that I would continue to run after death, in fact sometimes I wonder if I’m still alive or I’m just imagining a life and my body lies inert somewhere.
This is an interesting thought: we never have enough time to fall ill.
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Illness is never among our plans! There are always so many things to do!
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Yes, indeed. I personally believe it is best not to think too much about it in advance, so as not to become a hypochondriac.
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I think the same, I don’t visit my doctor often, I don’t even know his face!
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Well written 😊
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Thank you for your comment
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It’s my pleasure 🎉🤗
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