A Cold isn't just a Cold
Can a cold be a messenger? In this cosmos of receptors, signals, illuminators, and inertia, I feel way too philosophical considering that my current cold holds meaning. I am an existentialist, oddly a happy one, but none the less, I look for meaning in almost everything. Life just seems more rewarding when I can find reason and purpose in existence. Especially, when I apply it to people. So is this cold simply a collection of germs that have outwitted my immune system, or are they projectiles illuminating themselves, signaling how they want to be recognized, conspiring with my receptors, slowing my inertia towards that great ball of ego fire. In my sickness I am forced to consider rest a priority. In my weakness I am reminded how special a helping hand can be. In my misery and discomfort I admire those who cannot afford to have a sick day and I can be grateful for the fortune of being allowed space to be cared for.
You can’t assassinate closeminded-ness, only heal it
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