LA HISTORIA DEL ABANDONO DE LA CASA DE TORTURA DE REPÚBLICA 550

 Dear me: Yes, myself. I decided to write to myself in a moment of relief, of impotence, but above all of anger and why not say it, also of fear as I'm writing these words. I am trying to make you understand how we are turning off little by little and thus help comfort you in those moments of anguish. How do I explain to you, that my body - our body - is changing and that we are almost always incoagulable? How do I explain that now those pains that sometimes burn and sometimes tear us apart from the inside are common? We already know that bleeding is common in us and that opioids have become part of our daily lives. We both know how frustrating it is to see our constant deterioration and feel like we are fading away... that light of ours no longer wants to burn...We have cried together of helplessness and anger, and why not say it; fear also when seeing how the transfusions barely last 2 to 3 days. We both know what those "warnings" mean and I don't know how we could get used to them. Much less do I know how to understand how in hell this coagulopathy and these other diseases came to take away our lives, dreams and projects. Dear me, I know that sometimes my genius is variant and I become unbearable... I don't know how to explain that my anger sometimes surpasses us. We are fighting against a body that does not respond and as if that was not enough, we are also in a constant fight against a perverse and cruel System where indolence is the daily bread... But that, my dearest me, you already know very well, because we have lived from hospital violence to humiliation, just for asking for something as pious as dignified, and above all humane: our right to Euthanasia!. I know that the fear of the unknown is always with us. We don't know if they will authorize us to have our longed for passive death, that so necessary and dignified death that we beg so much for... The only thing I can offer you, my dear body, is dignity and respect.