Look, Raven. There must be life. Or there must be death. But we, poeple with Myalgi E./Playing-Dead-Syndrom, we are always between life and death. The days I am alive I want to make love, the days I have to go back to Hades and perceive myself (deadly) ill, I must decide whether I want to survive again.

Oh, yes, dear Raven, it is a kind of confusion all the time in this transfer from life to death. When I am alive again for such short time nobody understands my desperate and demanding force, my trembling, my wanting and unpatient behaviour….nobody understands that for me it has to happen….without risk….now!

My time on earth is so limited….Hades very near….

Isn’t living like that a matter of life and death?

I am alone, Raven in this horrible dialectic switching game, the disease does with me since years….


Give me wings, Raven.

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