8 more days to live
8 more days to live
What if one day you wake up, and suddenly, you're brought to a place where you've just been notified you have just 8 more days to live? Your limbs become numb, you just feel weak all over, you feel like your organs are all jumbled up...
That's how I felt when I woke up in my dream.
That dream was short. To me, recalled as, short since I can mostly only remember the beginning and the end. I can't really explain how I felt each step of the way, but there's only one word that was running in my mind throughout, right after I was told I had only 8 more days to live.
I was perfectly healthy. I was perfectly fine. I don't recall having been to the doctor's only to find out I've been diagnosed with some terminal illness... No... Never.
I was probably spending my time walking around - in a daze.. I was still taking time to actually sink that fact down. Was it true? Perhaps I heard wrongly? No.. reality seemed to dawn on to me that what I saw, what I heard, was all true. I have 8 more days to live. I ought to be doing things I'd want to do before I die right? Wrong. Hearing this cruel fact made me want to stay in a daze forever till the day I die and rot away. Nothing is ever more cruel than to know - when you're already living your life - normal as it is - when your time is up. What was worse? Since I knew I had no terminal illness, the cause of my death would probably be accidental.. And don't get me started on how many possibilities of "accidental deaths" I had in my mind at that time.
I was gonna die.
A few days after I was practically wasting my life away walking through streets, pass people who don't even know about my - possibly tragic - fate. I lost control of my limbs. Ok, to be exact, my legs. I just collapsed to the floor. And I blacked-out.
Next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital, doc told me he did an op on me. I was apparently not able to move for 2 days. Great. I had a few more days to live. Now? this. I was weaker than I usually was. Physically, mentally, emotionally.
Strangely, 8 days passed and I didn't die. But the pain of the after-op effects was excruciating enough to feel close to death.
I woke up after that. Never felt so freaked out in my entire life.
Well, a dream is just a dream, that's what everyone will probably be telling me by now if I were talking instead of typing it out here. But really, it'd set me to think about it. I thank God that He's never told me how long I have left to live. How many more days, weeks, months or years. I don't want that to stop me from living my life to the fullest for Him. I don't want to stop for a second, thinking, hey, I've been doing so much for Him and this is how I die? Well. even if situation calls for me to even say that, at least I think that in a second before I die and not waste my "8 days" away. When I could very well save lives. impact peoples' lives. plant seeds. DO SOMETHING MEANINGFUL before I die.
Alright. I shall post something else.. soon... that's less... melancholic. :D :D
What if one day you wake up, and suddenly, you're brought to a place where you've just been notified you have just 8 more days to live? Your limbs become numb, you just feel weak all over, you feel like your organs are all jumbled up...
That's how I felt when I woke up in my dream.
That dream was short. To me, recalled as, short since I can mostly only remember the beginning and the end. I can't really explain how I felt each step of the way, but there's only one word that was running in my mind throughout, right after I was told I had only 8 more days to live.
I was perfectly healthy. I was perfectly fine. I don't recall having been to the doctor's only to find out I've been diagnosed with some terminal illness... No... Never.
I was probably spending my time walking around - in a daze.. I was still taking time to actually sink that fact down. Was it true? Perhaps I heard wrongly? No.. reality seemed to dawn on to me that what I saw, what I heard, was all true. I have 8 more days to live. I ought to be doing things I'd want to do before I die right? Wrong. Hearing this cruel fact made me want to stay in a daze forever till the day I die and rot away. Nothing is ever more cruel than to know - when you're already living your life - normal as it is - when your time is up. What was worse? Since I knew I had no terminal illness, the cause of my death would probably be accidental.. And don't get me started on how many possibilities of "accidental deaths" I had in my mind at that time.
I was gonna die.
A few days after I was practically wasting my life away walking through streets, pass people who don't even know about my - possibly tragic - fate. I lost control of my limbs. Ok, to be exact, my legs. I just collapsed to the floor. And I blacked-out.
Next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital, doc told me he did an op on me. I was apparently not able to move for 2 days. Great. I had a few more days to live. Now? this. I was weaker than I usually was. Physically, mentally, emotionally.
Strangely, 8 days passed and I didn't die. But the pain of the after-op effects was excruciating enough to feel close to death.
I woke up after that. Never felt so freaked out in my entire life.
Well, a dream is just a dream, that's what everyone will probably be telling me by now if I were talking instead of typing it out here. But really, it'd set me to think about it. I thank God that He's never told me how long I have left to live. How many more days, weeks, months or years. I don't want that to stop me from living my life to the fullest for Him. I don't want to stop for a second, thinking, hey, I've been doing so much for Him and this is how I die? Well. even if situation calls for me to even say that, at least I think that in a second before I die and not waste my "8 days" away. When I could very well save lives. impact peoples' lives. plant seeds. DO SOMETHING MEANINGFUL before I die.
Alright. I shall post something else.. soon... that's less... melancholic. :D :D
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