mission

I have a mission to fulfill.

Don’t we all?

I recognize for an instant the connection of consciousness as One.

It’s only an instant. Pouf, it’s gone. I forget again.

Instead, I focus on the sharp stings in my chest, my armpit. I cringe. Fucking pain. Fucking cancer. The skin on my chest is so hideous I look like a freak show. And it hurts like a mother F-er.

Take another pill. Ha, me who never took an aspirin. Now I need a narcotic to get through the night.

Oh, she loves to pity herself doesn’t she?

Then I snap back.

I have a mission to fulfill.

Seriously. This mission is so important that it’s the ONLY thing that really matters.

And I’ll never get to KNOW what the mission is.

Maybe the mission will be revealed after this body is gone.

Or maybe it won’t.

It doesn’t matter.

It’s an INFINITE mission.

And we are ALL fulfilling it.