Tuesday Jan 16, 2007

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a woman i grew up with is dying of cancer. she still lives on the street where i grew up and i reconize my own mortality in a new way. i feel helpless and hopeless for her. my own problems shrivel to seem grossly inconsequential when i read her e-mails about chemo therapy and blood cell deficits. i don't even know what it really means, but words like "matasticized" aren't good.
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kundalini:
I'm sorry to read of your friend. I dislike being confronted with the fragility of life. It messes severely with my own self-image of invulnerability. I empathize with thee. Forced relativism for certain.

How often a new perspective can actually move the world.
wtf:
I often think if I were faced with my mortality in an upclose, everyday, freight train way, I wonder if I would have the strength? I can't bear to watch horror movies of people hiding under the bed while the killer lurks in the house looking for them. I would end up grabbing their ankles when they came into the room, saying, "Here I am, here I am!", because I'm sure the pounding of my heart would give me away eventually and not knowing if I were going to survive would just seem so unbearable. I'm sending thoughts of inner strength and hope out west.

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