Yesterday commenced with an unfortunate period of hours where I was feeling too ill to even articulate my illness. Coping mechanisms, such as writing, are my lifeline to escape drowning in the pain, and yet I was in too much pain to reach the keyboard of my computer, my lifejacket. It was a vicious circle in which my dendroid dendrites dragged me deep into the depths in a despicable endeavour at destruction. My Corrugator Supercilli was continuously contracted, inducing my face to adopt an almighty grimace.
My journey to dry land commenced with the lifejacket being physically forced upon me by the wonderful woman who was not deterred by the stormy seas of sickness, which were unfortunately literal. On the still perilous lifeboat, accompanied by lifelong friends and a man of overflowing heart, the seas began to calm. These gems of evolution, who have the ability to completely transform my emotional state, have held me throughout all my treacherous ventures, carrying me when my legs will no longer walk. The culmination of this trek, finally arriving at dry land, included a tide of greetings, orchestrated by none other than Stephen Fry, from sympathetic strangers.
I am now at the receiving end of excess adulation and a stream of incredibly thoughtful compliments. This flattery is beyond my wildest cognitive fantasy! Limning the effect of one line of prose by a man of such calibre is utterly impossible. However, Ralph Waldo Emerson (writer and philosopher 1803-1882) expresses most perfectly my sentiments regarding all the beautiful comments I have received.
“We love flattery, even though we are not deceived by it, because it shows that we are of importance enough to be courted.”