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Being

by Kjell Fjortoft, Norway


I am a human being.

In the sense that I'm hosting a bumping heart, pumping life through my body, and a thinking brain giving me feelings. A human being, I certainly am.

And I surely won't be sorry if I am treated as a human being either.

I am not here to be a burden to anyone. I'm quite aware that I'm no longer on top. That life had the idea tripping me up, I of course think is quite a pity. However, it was not at all my intention that this should happen, either.

I also realise that I no longer am capable of handling several practical jobs, and that I consequently have to ask others for help. Just like the little child sometimes has to, completely putting its trust in mom or dad.

Not considered an object, but as fellow human being, still around.

And I can still be a happy guy.

Maybe the capacity for smiling has become limited. Blooming wild flowers, birds, or the sweet smell of a sunny morning, for instance, may arouse strong feelings of joy and comfort. Or a smile, or a hug. Or when one of my kids declares "I love you, dad!"

However, I may of course also feel sorry, deep down. Maybe more easily than before, as well.

I enjoy excitement, and pleasant surprises, but really wish life could leave this surprise alone. Laying me fallow. I'm feeling really sorry for that. Nevertheless, I'm still here, like this.

If you can spare me a minute or two, please see me. Talk to me, and listen to me. However, please don't show me that you pity me, or talk to me as if I were a miserable wretch. Rather, leave me in no doubt that you consider me a fellow human being, and that I am respected.

Being positive is the key. It's not the disease that beats you, but the lack of hope...




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