Es war einmal*

Dickes, dickes Sorry! Mea culpa! In dubio pro reo! Nulla poena sine lege! E macarena!

If you're going through hell, keep going.

Normally when my sis wants to internet on my computer I give her Safari.

They prescribed me medication in Dec 2012 (that was three months after my surgeries) and when I told them it does not really work, they were like "Be patient and you´ll get better". A year later I told them I´m still in pain and they said "You´ll have to live with it". Then I went to a pain therapist who BY CHANCE diagnosed that there was a fucking parasite living inside me! For the past 1 1/2 years I got medication for a disease I do not have cause it has been that parasite the whole time!! (BTW and I caught that parasite in hospital, so thanks for that)! I got heavy antibiotics and that parasite is gone now but it had enough time to damage my body. I went to hospital a month ago to find out what the exact damage is so I can get treatment. Results: none. Conclusion: Next tuesday I´ll have to go to hospital again for a few days and for even more examinations. And you know what? I bet they´ll find nothing. And I´ll just have to sit here in pain for the rest of my life, unable to leave the house or go to uni or find a job or just go to the cinema. Sitting here with a body damaged by incredibly stupid surgeons and an incredibly stupid parasite.

Was soll das heißen, Lebensinhalt? Lebensinhalt ist doch ein total schwachsinniger Begriff. Was willst du damit sagen, Lebensinhalt? Was ist der Inhalt eines Lebens? Ist das Leben ein Glas oder eine Flasche oder ein Eimer, irgendein Behälter, in den man was hineinfüllt, etwas hineinfüllen muss sogar, denn irgendwie scheint sich ja die ganze Welt einig zu sein, dass man so etwas wie einen Lebensinhalt unbedingt braucht. Ist das Leben so? Nur ein Behältnis für was anderes? Ein Fass vielleicht? Oder eine Kotztüte?