The Remaining Half of Life

 

After living with my body for more than fifty years, abnormal signs appear here and there now. Although I am under the influence of genetically inherited hypertension, mild angina which is a kind of complication, and the chronic feeling of sagging inward energy make me as nervous as taking four pills regularly in the morning. The aftermath and extension of that tension follows the management method suggested by modern medicine. A very bland, low-salt meal, punctual mealtimes, and a new tedious walking exercise to let go of the urge to run away. Finally, I try to keep nine outof ten items to maintain healthy status, including abstinence from alcohol and quitting smoking, which are not applicable. If so, ask myself it would be A degree of care.  

 

But perhaps the biggest threat to someone like me is psychological influence. It is not the contraction of anxiety and fear, but the relaxation of astrophy and resignation. Instead of the positive energy of managing, maintaining, and moving forward, I feel like I am driving a car with a fuel gauge that corsses the red boundary. So I openly reveal my heart that I am living half of my life after taking the drug. Whatever it is, everything is anatagonism and conflict in my heart, and the fact that my realistic and physical appearance will go toward the end by chance for the given time being remained the same. Only the busy mind around me changes clothes day by day and paints them in red or gray.   

 

In fact, I've been dragging the mater of my consciousness and awareness through the image engraved in my body for a long time. Physically, (probably as a tocken of sense of inferiority) I've been strongly influenced by several agenda such as unrealistic characteristics that find a remote distance from joy and sorrow, lack of participation and hope for social progress, lack of intervention and effort for personal achievement and taste of power. But the central theme is to search for truth and interest in meaning that has not been diminished much.

 

It is unlikely that the earth will be destroyed tomorrow, and even so, it is unlikely that I will plant an apple tree. But I am neither as busy nor anxious as the second hand gauge in the clock upon staring at. I look at myself who is given and managing that way.

 

P.S. This is as much as I could go in translation even with an aid by Google. I know what I feel inside but also admit how hard to write about in a communicable form. I wish I should have written something more clear point.

 

 

Source: https://blog.naver.com/jree44/20171432384