As I lay here now, listening to the breeze.
I am unable to get out of bed.
Let me restate that.
I am unable to get out of bed, without help.
I don’t know anyone that can’t get out of bed.
I realize I must be close to death.
I have kept quiet all these years.
I had a good life, did what I was told.
This must be how it starts, I am unable to to lift my physical body out of this bed. It is a strange place to be.
I am losing interest in the physical world, and drifting into the cerebral.
I remember everything.
I have kept quiet all these years.
I still have my voice.