And now my body can feel, how time stands still. Or the other way around: there is only time left, noticeable, a heavy boggy mass, Clay, maybe, that reaches up to my neck, while I take one step in front of the other, like a ticking clockwork, hopefully, and out into a plane nowhere, in which there are boxes here and there; torn out all the wires. These last kilometers, joined me for several years, she has to go alone. Everything is on fire, is on fire, Nothing, not a single fire will be extinguished, during the day, when I close my eyes. Everything is on fire, is on fire, my skin; a single fire, schemenhaftes Draussen; a network of coordinated functions, technical processes. Entrances, Iron gates and pin codes. Awkward to sit up in bed, 35th birthday present, that hasn't been changed for six weeks. A dirty Molto will do the same, when the night goes on forever. The night. Always the night. Again and again. Three o'clock in the morning the regular, confidential rattle of a train. Then a whistle. The first bird at four thirty in the morning. Look at mountains of medicines under the porn lamp mushroom, and ask yourself: What happened. The time: suddenly it condensed, suddenly she started walking, Events occurred, they flash through my head; i am not there yet, but still there. Stop processing, metabolic and …… emotional …..Everything is on fire, is on fire, my skin, my hair roots, I go and want to dive like I did with Gabi, between the warm and cold swirls of Lake Thun, between milky glacier stream and mosquito water, Cologne, girl, now since 3 Years ago fell from the rock—the strong have died. The, who carried me away in my heart. And then there was a row. And relationships broke up. And some died. It's so late, after it was so early for a long time, too early. I remember our dances, Gabi, this overwhelming joy, to be beautiful, feeling energized, to dance. We went nuts. You and me. What is my life? Look down from the sky and laugh snippily at your Penelope: it became a slime snail. The slowest in the world. And yet not from this world. You could help me! Of! Maybe you'd laugh at me! And, I took it from you! 
When I read this text of yours, I can get a deeper idea of your illness and take part, as if you were specifically about M.E. Write. Then I remain a perplexed and helpless reader.
A.
Ok. thank you.