The beast has a name

“And if you must, go to work – tomorrow
Well, if I were you I wouldn’t bother
For there are brighter sides to life
And I should know, because I’ve seen them
But not very often.
Under the iron bridge we kissed
And although I ended up with sore lips
It just wasn’t like the old days anymore
No, it wasn’t like those days
Am I still ill?”

- The Smiths, Still Ill.

 

Seronegative symmetrical psoriatic arthritis.

It wasn’t all in my head.

 

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3 Comments

  1. Pingback: So I’ll start a revolution from my bed | Halfway Between The Gutter And The Stars

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