July 17 / 10 The Song of the Day Is : “Goodbye Ruby Tuesday” as performed by Melanie Safka I sit in the sun during day and am still cold . It is now 2450 , it is cool inside my place , my temp. is 35.5C (1 ½ degrees below normal) and I feel uncomfortably hot. Up until now I have been uncomfortably cold all the time . The night sweats from the cancer are returning. As are the pains and the bone deep fatigue. It has only been a few weeks since the last cycle of chemo. Dam , the effects of the chemo are just wearing off , the effects of the cancer are already returning. Every oncologist that I have spoken with has stressed that I have a very aggressive type of cancer. They tell me this with an expression of guilt , disappointment and seriousness. I imagine the guilt is from knowing that the therapy that they have overseen has put me through 7 months of hell. The disappointment must be from the fact that the therapy did not have much effect of the cancer , the seriousness from the reality of a death sentence to be carried out soon by the cancer. Hell , everyone ,I’m sure , did their best. I do feel sorry for all the health care workers that were involved. Their type of work must take an emotional toll . In am glad that there are people with the courage to choose the field of cancer care. As the effects of the cancer progress , the finality of my situation looms ominously . I find it difficult to concentrate on anything for any period of time . I am my own health care worker now . Most of my energy is consumed by trying to look after my daily needs. I am frustrated . I still have the gumption to get out and do a few things but it’s just not in the cards in my present situation. So I make do , try to get as much as I can from what is left of this experience of “livin”. Make the most of , and learn as much as I can during this experience of “slowdeath“. Bye for now , see ya on the other side . 0554 I can let myself start slipping within a period of time as short as 24 hrs. At this stage I know that I could lay down , give up and be dead within a couple of weeks , maybe even in as little time as a few days. Sleep is no longer resting , but a place. Dreams are a place where my spirit is guided. Spirits of the living and the dead mingle and collide there. PLACES There are places / places where there is no life / only wanderers / and the pleasure of sacrifice / where peasants skirts dust refugee trails / and the troubadours speak bluntly / walking on the fingertips of applause / places where beauty dances and sparkles / in the raindrops splash , suspended over a still lake / where small peeks of heaven / are served with generous portions of hell / where the sun fades like an old cliche / and moans like a broken promise / Places are the times I have seen / the immaculate timing wished for / to be dreaming the same dreams / and I wonder where you will be ? / or where I’ll be ? / in the expanse of memory / will I see you / within the sight of perfectly powdered recollections / as a queens whisper in a paupers breath / or as tears , drying in the settling dust / in the places that have never been searched before / embraced in a lovers wet crush / where devils and angels drown /
and when this final season slams the door / in the stillness , feel my caress / as it whispers in the breeze by your ear. Azab
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