Standby

Tues. April 20 /10 0200 The Cancer and the Chemo. The sleeping world is no longer the sleeping world . The waking world is no longer the waking world. Consciousness and unconsciousness dance with each other , following each others footsteps as one. In the last 17 hours there have been moments when I feel like I am slipping away. I feel death brush by and tap my shoulder. I realize why cultures give death a physical entity. One can sense death hovering , whirling and grasping at ones soul. Linear thought becomes difficult. I am aware of the effort that it takes to open and close my eyes. Getting up and moving around is scary as I am not sure if I am going to stay on my feet. Reading a few pages from a book is tiring and requires much effort. I look in the mirror and see deaths outline trying to envelop me. I have been in this state before. I try to get moving and hope that the body kicks in . Something is telling me that pushing my body at this point could be fatal. 0301 I wait as time ticks away , trying to get the gumption up to continue on longer. TEARS AND KISSES tears and kisses on the same cheeks / the soul like the land / breathtaking but uncaring whether the body lives or dies / do not love the dead / we have left and will not be back / unpacked all our baggage and left it where it stands / like all of life’s promises that were never meant to be kept / the past will not last here / but only stains memories / there will be no shoes left at the door / the tears will not last / all tears run down the same cheeks / tears of pain / tears of sadness / tears of pleasure / tears of joy / drip and mingle into life’s salient emotional pool / where memories purpose rusts / do not argue with the dead / we are already dust . Azab