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Peginterferon-Ribavirin, Failed it twice. Incivek, Failed it. Sovaldi Olysio, failed it. Harvoni, failed it... Transplant Patient Zepatier and Sovaldi...we'll find out!

Saturday, November 1, 2014


There is no better day, than today to start something. 
While, for the most part, I can deal with the struggles of failure, I find sometimes my frustrations leak out in unexpected forms.

They push people away, but ultimately pull them in. While the world around me moves, I observe. It's glass all around me, and the sad part is that I put it there. Allowing others to see my life, to be better understand, and to help me build better relationships with them... and yet I know this glass can't allow it. But the winds of change will shatter this glass, cracks from friendship, family and love give me hope. I may burn brighter as more fuel from the struggle is thrown upon the fire within me, this glass will shatter.

I find myself inspired to write a little more flowery than normal, so I apologize for my consistent use of metaphor, last night however it actually rained, and in my sadness and frustration I felt inspired...

Last night I listened to the rain, I watched the water dance as the wind pulled it to it fro.
As shallow lights in their distance illuminated the water to an ever steady glow.
The wind began to howl, it felt from the excitement.
The water kept it's time, never once to fight it.
The lights; flickered, a chance to join in glee
And so I lit a candle, to let the fire see.
The flame inside moved along watching ever close.
But never once could it dance along, lacking like a ghost.
It smiled to me, to let it outside, not knowing what's in store.
That if the fire got too wet, it would not burn much more.
I cracked the window to better hear, of the ever pleasant beat.
The tapping of the drips and drops, the wind ripping at its heat.
The flame, afraid, it moved away, the wind was far too strong.
The candle knew it's place inside, it couldn't dance along.
The candle looked at me and burned a little brighter.
Then flicker twice, and out it went, it wasn't born a fighter.
The wind blew quick, the fire gone, and now left with the smoke.
Sitting beside the ember, glowing, dying, to me,  it spoke.

"I cannot dance with the others this way.
I find this fact to my dismay,
But if they still would like to play.
I'll change my form, from orange to gray."

The smoke around me, whisked far outside,
I watched, and smiled as it danced with pride.
The flame and smoke were one in the same,
But it was the wind, who inspired the change.

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