May 29th when I awoke from a thirty-four day coma there were many things that were
osurd that I observed. (Not right then because it was hard for me even think.) For instance, before my tragic accident I had
a very high pitch voice and very little facial hair. My memory was great prior to my accident as well but, in a couple minute
accident, it all changed.
I was comatose for over a month and I awoke with three to four inch toenails, a
face full of hair and a voice like Denzel Washington. It took about a year to realize my mental incapabilities. Incapabilites
which include; mainly memory loss, cocentration abilities in school work, getting distracted easily, a major shortening of
my vocabulary and the sudden change of subjects my mind concentrated about. Most of the disabilities that I encountered, I
overcame in a few months such as my shortening of vocabulary, while I became adapted to others.
I found ways to manage with almost every single way that of my brains' outcome.
That was the good side of eerything. Now I am very rarely serious and when I am, it is always at the wrong time. It is the
same way with my humor, it always comes across others at the wrong time.
Now I have almos no one that is completely loyal to me. My parents are truthfully
the one ones but, only because I am a part of them. They did not even give me a chance to get to know me before they
instantly loved me. Even the majority of my "close" friends would stab me in the back just because of what their friends
will say about me. Truthfully, nowadays it seems that my closest friend is my pen because Gods soul lives deep inside me and
it just expresses what God thinks. Also my pen will never click itself and stab me against my will.
I get along will only the people that feel obligated to get along with me. My business
aspects pushes away some while the joyous humurous side pushes away the others.
I have no talents except for thinking and putting them into pages. So that I pursure
greatly. Even in my past I deeply valued my ability to debate but through time and my brain injury, that talent disappeared.
To this day I carry a notepad in my back left pocket filled with great ideas and concepts that I have composed and plan on
writing about these. One of the main reasons I keep that notepad is because I plan to change this corrupted world we all live
in eventually. I have made a reaslistic thesis and my hypotesis is, if I can not debate or keep my memory in tact through
a single conversation then I will do my only talent now.
Write.
Throughout my entire life, a prophecy was brought to
my attention. A prophecy of my death that was brought to my mind about five-six years ago. Through these five-six years I
have created many stories which coincide with the one prophecy which I have recieved. There was one of these mind-boggling
story that was created seven years ago and it was very hard to believe because I lived quite horrible back then and it was
very hard to realize how this story would be brought to my corrupted heart. Now since my coma every single story that I though
about is comming true if it has not already come true already. Now every single choice I have made in these past dive years
depends on this story, and is in some situations this prophecy, comming true. I do not care if this prophecy does not come
true but, if this story that I have depicted of comming true does not, then I will be crushed and I will not know where
to go. It must though because why else would I survive a case that no one else could get through without a single touch from
God.
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