As I lay like a cripple in a pool of sweat

Recalling early stages of onset of a disability in artistic video and poetic Spoken Word.

As I lay like a cripple in a pool of sweat, I want to forgive. It hurts, starved of sleep, the damage, stuttering my broken sentences, shattering memories. My muscles burning, waiting for their final words that would surely break my spirit. In total distress, I push my torso off the bed, trying to swallow the pain and humiliation.
Frantically trying to roll a cigarette, that only fuels my embarrassing
frustration more within the hopeless futility, my failing mind and hands. She gently touches my arm and rolls me a cigarette in silence, unaware her shown intellect cripples my heart further. A gentle silence within these silent, hellish hours this silent unspoken weeks and months in recovery. Falling into years.
Unable to swallow food, unaware of the damage to my brain or throat. Being forced to sip simple smoothies that were hard to keep down and made me choke vomiting up my tablets that get stuck in my throat. Bumping into door frames, pantries and corridors with no spatial awareness, coordination shot, with cuts and bruises on the skin to show. Unable to keep track of the thin red line of urgency, my body needed. Life threatening replenishment. Continuing extreme, constant voluntary movements that push my starving parched body to dangerous limits.
Without sleep, my jaw clenched in pain as if permanently chewing gum, confused of my surroundings drenched in sweat, my heart being pushed to dangerous deathly limits. Pounding in my chest, hearing the sounds reverberating in my ears like nightclub speakers. Overwrought veins visually pumping out of my entire body with no fat to hide them. A skeleton of skin and bone with wiry, fatigued muscles. Burning pain beyond limits. I will never in no way ever be able to describe on a mental level. Worn out desperation, the mind becoming shut down, pain barriers and exhaustion to limits marathon runners would not dare. Drenching sweat, tears, moans. Screams, clothed in the same dirty rags for weeks on end. No comprehension of hygiene or physical appearance. Underpants dirtier than an unleashed toilet. Such confusion.
A shaggy beard, crusty teeth, barefooted. Movement and exhaustion without any free will. No choice to stop. Suffering, almost permanent states of insomnia. A shabby mess, no track time. Unaware up to maybe five days, maybe more, no sleep. The body passing out from exhaustion. No memory of when you dropped or when you woke up, or how you even got there, before another sleepless marathon begins.

Note 2 Self | Part 1 | A powerful short 3 minute artistic video and poetic representation recalling early stages of onset of a disability.

Film by Roadz Of Life

Footage taken from full length Documentary Roadz Of Life
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