Frist of all I like to thank all of you for visiting me in my hospital ward as you all know I was a sculptor and to be a sculptor you will need two things: a hand and a brain. I’ve got the brain but not the hand and I know all you people think sculpturing is nothing just put two piece of clay together and weler done masterpiece but no you all haven’t experience it the wonder of creating something new with the work of your fingertips but I have I’ve felt it and enjoyed it from head to toe enjoying every moment and every hour of it but now that gone and every time I think of what I did before it tortures me like 100 spears ready to dig in my mind crushing with the thought of the past and if you really want my opium of a life being a quadriplegic well I tell you now it hell yes I’ve seen it medical staff treating you as something like an object not even near enouth to a animal let alone a human most of the people think I’m funny saying joke but really the jokes are like medicine trying to stop me crying from the fact that I’m not the sculpture teacher I used to be but I am near statue waiting to erode until there’s nothing left just a near showdown of my past siting on a bed waiting and thinking what it will take for me to die. Some people think when I say rude joke to the nurse it make me happy but when the door closes my heart turn to ice waiting for the solid to turn to a liquid.
But there was another thing in my mind and it always been