The word was terminal. How many times I have reloaded my webpage, I do not know. I just want to be writing about something different, something unknown. Why, oh why, won’t this page turn? Acceptance is hard. For all of us, indeed. Perhaps if I finish this up it will allow me to see something else as it comes a long.
The trains rush by, each leading to a different world. I feel dizzy with the choices, and am glad I don’t have one. I step across the thick yellow line, and I fall.
The airport was bustling with activity. A flight from France had just gotten in- chaos erupting from it’s boarding ramp. Something had gone wrong during the flight, some sort of disease had broken out, and passengers were being attacked. By each other. A rage had spread through the 747, and people were pushing to get off in a panic.
airport terminal and there is terminally ill, which is not good. it’s a port in which people need to get through and connects things together. like the internet terminal. that’s super important because the internet is helping me not do work. and they help me to do this exercise. although i don’t like airports. those are terrible. but terminals do help me to get places and without it then it would be bad
For most, it represents finality, palliative care. “You have a tumour”. The cancer is terminal”.
For me, by the grace of God, it means adventure, travel, noisy aircraft, sequins of light on the ocean, exotic places, suitcases on carousels, airport delays.
I wish I were terminal. It would make life so much easier. I want to end it. I want it to stop. But I’m not selfish enough to do that to my family and friends. I think about Ari and how much she says she relies on me. I couldn’t do it to Chris, who adores me and think I’m so much greater than I am. I love them more than I love life right now. Who do I make these feelings go away?
Airports, you’ll find them here. Endless galaxies of them piled on top of each other. Where tourists, like spaceships, dart between them to and fro in search of adventure and something new. It can also mean hopelessness. The one word that you don’t want to hear your doctor say in front of another word is this. Terminal. Brings meaning to the word despair.
It was a terminal illness. No not cancer that would leave a lifeless body. it was heartache that would render a heart unusable while the body still lived on.
They said terminal
and under the fluorescent lights that made
even healthy people pale and yellow
I thought
about airplanes
and final destinations
and goodbyes with eyes set on adventure.
I closed my eyes and thought of mountains
raised high into the thinnest air
They said terminal
and under the fluorescent lights that made
even healthy people pale and yellow
I thought
about airplanes
and final destinations
and goodbyes with eyes on adventure.
ilness is brought to you by this terrible arching beacon of dismal gloom. underestimated your health can go harmed if left unchecked. many things like diseases can be terminal but can also be stopped should we choose to seek out help. no blame for others who are terminal without a hope of recovery. i miss Mr david menasche, who died from terminal brain cancer.
It was terminal, he said. What would Annie do now that her cancer had become terminal? Right before her eyes, flashed her entire life. The things she had taken for granted, the times where she had neglected to take her niece out to lunch whenever her niece begged her. Terminal?? Never one to succumb to negativity, she immediately turned those thoughts on their ear and looked on the bright side.
it wasn’t a month ago. i sat on that uncomfortable bench, biding my time, watching the people flit by on the walkway overhead, cleverly designed to keep busy and people in a hurry out of the way. on that walkway, suddenly, a gaggle of air arabia stewardesses with their daunty highheels and their beautifully draped veils floating from their wine red caps
she reached the terminal and finally realizd what she forgot. it was her charger though it felt like so much more. the trip had begun to unravel before her eyes and she had yet to leave home. she could see what it wasn’t before it was.
I was rushing towards the airport towards temninal 1D, when I saw him.
It had been more than 5 years since the last time we saw each other.
My heart stopped, it was almost like a dream.
I didn’t know if I should go up to him, or just walk past him, or say hi, or just pretend this never happened. My heart wanted to meet him, wanted to look at him again, see him, hear him, and just like that he turned. He saw me.
She sat in the terminal, waiting for a train that was already 23 minutes behind scheduled. It was crowded, so crowded that the dust attached to the high ceilings seemed to be disturbed by all the commotion so far below the hanging lights and drooping gothic rafters. A woman dragged a small boy by the wrist, and pushed him to sit beneath a statue head at one end of the terminal. His eyes never left the ceiling.
I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers again. This was my last chance to tell her, before she was gone.
I could never summon up the courage, but now I had to.
“Wait!”
She whipped around, about to step into the plane that would take her away from me, far far away, and heaven knows when she’d be back.
“Don’t go. Please. I love you.”
The clinic was an easy job for Clara, which left her with a lot of free time to practice and teach the dance classes. Medicine was a reasonably simple science now that they had the DNA tuners. The discovery of the “Caretaker Sequence” in human DNA had meant that all forms of cancer, – the last terminal disease that troubled mankind – could be “reprogrammed” out through DNA modification, so that meant that apart from accidents (her main workload), suicides and the very occasional murder, everybody lived a healthy life until the two hundred and ten year limit that the Caretaker gene seemed to impose.
The word was terminal. How many times I have reloaded my webpage, I do not know. I just want to be writing about something different, something unknown. Why, oh why, won’t this page turn? Acceptance is hard. For all of us, indeed. Perhaps if I finish this up it will allow me to see something else as it comes a long.
The trains rush by, each leading to a different world. I feel dizzy with the choices, and am glad I don’t have one. I step across the thick yellow line, and I fall.
The airport was bustling with activity. A flight from France had just gotten in- chaos erupting from it’s boarding ramp. Something had gone wrong during the flight, some sort of disease had broken out, and passengers were being attacked. By each other. A rage had spread through the 747, and people were pushing to get off in a panic.
airport terminal and there is terminally ill, which is not good. it’s a port in which people need to get through and connects things together. like the internet terminal. that’s super important because the internet is helping me not do work. and they help me to do this exercise. although i don’t like airports. those are terrible. but terminals do help me to get places and without it then it would be bad
`1@/87665432
For most, it represents finality, palliative care. “You have a tumour”. The cancer is terminal”.
For me, by the grace of God, it means adventure, travel, noisy aircraft, sequins of light on the ocean, exotic places, suitcases on carousels, airport delays.
May it always be so.
the end
comes when we
reach the terminal
we kiss
and cry
and say goodbye
hoping it’s not
the end
I wish I were terminal. It would make life so much easier. I want to end it. I want it to stop. But I’m not selfish enough to do that to my family and friends. I think about Ari and how much she says she relies on me. I couldn’t do it to Chris, who adores me and think I’m so much greater than I am. I love them more than I love life right now. Who do I make these feelings go away?
As I walked to the terminal with Joy, I realized that this was going to be the last time I saw her until we met again in college.
Airports, you’ll find them here. Endless galaxies of them piled on top of each other. Where tourists, like spaceships, dart between them to and fro in search of adventure and something new. It can also mean hopelessness. The one word that you don’t want to hear your doctor say in front of another word is this. Terminal. Brings meaning to the word despair.
It was a terminal illness. No not cancer that would leave a lifeless body. it was heartache that would render a heart unusable while the body still lived on.
They said terminal
and under the fluorescent lights that made
even healthy people pale and yellow
I thought
about airplanes
and final destinations
and goodbyes with eyes set on adventure.
I closed my eyes and thought of mountains
raised high into the thinnest air
They said terminal
and under the fluorescent lights that made
even healthy people pale and yellow
I thought
about airplanes
and final destinations
and goodbyes with eyes on adventure.
ilness is brought to you by this terrible arching beacon of dismal gloom. underestimated your health can go harmed if left unchecked. many things like diseases can be terminal but can also be stopped should we choose to seek out help. no blame for others who are terminal without a hope of recovery. i miss Mr david menasche, who died from terminal brain cancer.
It was terminal, he said. What would Annie do now that her cancer had become terminal? Right before her eyes, flashed her entire life. The things she had taken for granted, the times where she had neglected to take her niece out to lunch whenever her niece begged her. Terminal?? Never one to succumb to negativity, she immediately turned those thoughts on their ear and looked on the bright side.
it wasn’t a month ago. i sat on that uncomfortable bench, biding my time, watching the people flit by on the walkway overhead, cleverly designed to keep busy and people in a hurry out of the way. on that walkway, suddenly, a gaggle of air arabia stewardesses with their daunty highheels and their beautifully draped veils floating from their wine red caps
she reached the terminal and finally realizd what she forgot. it was her charger though it felt like so much more. the trip had begun to unravel before her eyes and she had yet to leave home. she could see what it wasn’t before it was.
I was rushing towards the airport towards temninal 1D, when I saw him.
It had been more than 5 years since the last time we saw each other.
My heart stopped, it was almost like a dream.
I didn’t know if I should go up to him, or just walk past him, or say hi, or just pretend this never happened. My heart wanted to meet him, wanted to look at him again, see him, hear him, and just like that he turned. He saw me.
She sat in the terminal, waiting for a train that was already 23 minutes behind scheduled. It was crowded, so crowded that the dust attached to the high ceilings seemed to be disturbed by all the commotion so far below the hanging lights and drooping gothic rafters. A woman dragged a small boy by the wrist, and pushed him to sit beneath a statue head at one end of the terminal. His eyes never left the ceiling.
I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers again. This was my last chance to tell her, before she was gone.
I could never summon up the courage, but now I had to.
“Wait!”
She whipped around, about to step into the plane that would take her away from me, far far away, and heaven knows when she’d be back.
“Don’t go. Please. I love you.”
The clinic was an easy job for Clara, which left her with a lot of free time to practice and teach the dance classes. Medicine was a reasonably simple science now that they had the DNA tuners. The discovery of the “Caretaker Sequence” in human DNA had meant that all forms of cancer, – the last terminal disease that troubled mankind – could be “reprogrammed” out through DNA modification, so that meant that apart from accidents (her main workload), suicides and the very occasional murder, everybody lived a healthy life until the two hundred and ten year limit that the Caretaker gene seemed to impose.