The battle of existing within a body that chronically debilitates has had its way with me. The soreness the achiness. The exhaustion and aging. I find it to be molding. Molding me to become something of a statue. One of amazement that brings you to stare in awe. The intricacies would have a blind man in awe. The statue is my fight. My symbolization of accepting survival of death for the day. For...