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I have come close to a full recovery of my earlier illness. My head no longer pains me as badly as it did before, and niether does my body freeze and burn. My throat is still scratchy and swollen, but not quite so hot. I have lost my voice but I am slowly regaining that aswell. But with the return of my health, the return of resposiblity follows. Wasn't it nice to be a small child? No worries, no stresses. Everything was rather simple and strait foreward. People did things for you, instead of you doing things for other people. No one really depended on you, no one demands your attention or affection. As a small child, you could sink away into a corner and no one would notice. You could disapeer. But no longer. Now, with age, you have grown to know the stresses and worries and pains of resposbilites. No matter how much you hate it, no matter how much you whine, it doesn't change anything. The world is a creul and uninviting place. Why do we even live here?