From Austin To New York.

From Austin To New YorkMorning.

Let the journey begin. Let this plane take us out of here and in to the next phase, whatever that may be. You’re still sleepy, it’s early, but there’s no way you can get any rest here in these uncomfortable seats. You go get some coffee, you go get some tea, some water; some overpriced airport water, and you drink it without tasting it. Commerce all around. Coffee, tea, tacos, bagels, cinnamon rolls, hot dogs, watches, books, fruit, drinks, snacks, travel accessories, whatever the hell that is…No, this is not a vacation. It may feel like it; after all you’re away from the daily routine and on your way to something you have never seen before, but it’s not a vacation and it’s not a getaway. It’s a chance for life. In a country with an enormous wealth, where some people pay millions for a house or an apartment without even blinking,others are homeless, sleeping in the streets. Where some people can buy anything they desire, others are dying because they can’t afford healthcare. “Can’t afford healthcare”. Taste it. It feels wrong, doesn’t it? You can’t afford saving your life. The affordable will not take you very far anymore.

This is not a vacation, it’s a chance for life. It’s paid for by friends and strangers who donated to a fundraiser you started for a chance for a normal life. You want to be  a part of something. You want to contribute, to be a productive member of society, however lame and stiff that may sound. Don’t want to live in the shadows, like a ghost. Don’t want to be isolated. Don’t want to not have the energy.  We have one life. Yours feels like half a life, the way things have turned out. Morning. From Austin to New York. From home; that low income housing unit in the midst of what used to be “weird” but now has turned into condo, “luxury living”-“amazing views”-heaven, to see the doctor at a clinic where you don’t have to explain or defend yourself.

Morning. Sunrise. You’re tired, but there’s a tickle in your chest. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. Is it hope?

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About David Fridlund

Born in Sweden 1974. Moved to Austin TX in 2009 w my wife.
This entry was posted in Chronic Illness, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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