My brain is doing very weird associations lately. I think it's probably a result of my depression, but it could also be the brain fog… well, it doesn't matter which.
Right now I'm thinking of that time when I was on a flight to Berlin and I was browsing one of those in-flight catalogues, considering whether I should pay an obscene amount of money for a FreyWille ring. It was their Klimt collection, hence the irresistable appeal.
Wow… how the years have passed! I was such a different person then. I owned things. I bought things. I wanted things. Now I only spend money on groceries and utility bills. You could offer me a box full of FreyWille jewellery and I wouldn't even open it, let alone take it.
I have no free will. I am a slave to my disease. My feble body and distorted mind have no say in anything. My illness commands all my actions, all my moods, all my thoughts and all my desires. I just go along with it, until Death knocks on my door.