Friday 12 August 2011
Thursday 11 August 2011
'Till the sunlight burns a happy hole in your heart,
I keep on fear, keep on loathing
Nothing brings it on I keep on falling
Decide what it is I can not find
It subsides what you make it
Never feel like you're gonna break, ye
It's gonna be alright alright
Sleep until the morning comes
The sun will warm your soul
Sleep until the morning comes for you
Til the morning it's alright
I can walk into the sunlight, into the day, into the day, to the day
I feel it falling, nothing comes to my mind
Bring it on in a different tide
I feel alright, alright
I feel strong, i feel rigid
It's nothing to do with the vision
Oh feels so right, so right
Sleep on tight, sleep on tight
Sleep until the sunlight
Sleep until sunlight
Sleep on tight
Sleep on tight
Sleep on tight
Sleep on tight, til the sunlight
Sleep on tight, til the sunlight burns you happy
Til the sunlight burns you happy, till the sunlight burns a happy hole in
Your heart,
In your heart
In your heart...
Flesh & Fantasy
It's easiest to dream when you're awake. When you can cancel one thought and edit the next. When you can recognize, and enjoy, the smell of freshly burnt incense as the smoke fills the space between inhales. Where the breeze from an open window passes across you, like fingertips, softly.
Hear the thoughts that race through my head, as we sit in this silence. Gaze deep, past the eyes, and into the scrying pool of my spirit, where I'm waiting.
Hear the thoughts that race through my head, as we sit in this silence. Gaze deep, past the eyes, and into the scrying pool of my spirit, where I'm waiting.
Wednesday 10 August 2011
When life is hard, you have to change.
I don't feel the sun's comin' out today
It's staying in, it's gonna find another way, yeah, hey
As I sit here in this misery
I don't think I'll ever no long' seen the sun from here
And, oh, as I fade away
They'll all look at me and say and they'll say
"Hey, look at him", I'll never live that way
And that's okay, they're just afraid to change
Ah, when you feel life ain't worth living
You've got to stand up and take a look around
You look up way to the sky
Hey and when your deepest thoughts are broken
Keep on dreaming boy, 'cause when you stop dreamin' it's time to die
And as we all play parts of tomorrow, oh, no, no
Some ways we'll work, in other ways we'll play, yeah, yeah
But I know we can't all stay here forever, oh
So I want to write my words on the face of today
And then they'll paint it up
And, oh, as I fade away, yeah
They'll all look at me and say, they'll say
"Hey, look at him and where he is these days"
When life is hard, you have to change
When life is hard, you have to change
Friday 5 August 2011
She's lost control.
Confusion in her eyes that says it all.
She's lost control.
And she's clinging to the nearest passer by,
She's lost control.
And she gave away the secrets of her past,
And said I've lost control again,
And a voice that told her when and where to act,
She said I've lost control again.
And she turned around and took me by the hand and said,
I've lost control again.
And how I'll never know just why or understand,
She said I've lost control again.
And she screamed out kicking on her side and said,
I've lost control again.
And seized up on the floor, I thought she'd die.
She said I've lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
Well I had to 'phone her friend to state my case,
And say she's lost control again.
And she showed up all the errors and mistakes,
And said I've lost control again.
But she expressed herself in many different ways,
Until she lost control again.
And walked upon the edge of no escape,
And laughed I've lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
She's lost control again.
She's lost control.
Glory Days
I've always found the concept of a blog bizarre. In my world, at least, the idea of a blog is to somehow write down your thoughts. All those bullshits that float through your brain on any given day. When you're driving and imagine what it would be like for just that moment NOT to brake when the guy in front of you does. Or, instead of turning the corner and following the road, you go straight and see where you end up? what's really on the other side of that hill anyway? You've driven alongside it everyday for the past 5 years, maybe the grass is greener and elves are running around leading people to the pot of gold...I don't know man, all those things you probably shouldn't tell people, you can write down, anonymously...in your "blog".
When I was a kid I used to have a book with me all the time. I used to hide it under my mattress...and I used to call it "Vito", because it was my Italian Mob buddy. I could write the names and descriptions of all the assholes I knew down in"Vito" and unleash my wrath into the universe. I would imagine "Vito" setting out in the middle of the night, stalking my ex as he walked home from work and kidnapping him, locking him in an abandoned house and ripping off each toe...or something like that.
I was a pretty lonely kid.
I was too busy hating EVERYTHING to care about what New Kid set his hotel room on fire. Or, who Madonna was fucking. I actually didn't really know Hollywood existed until I was 19 or so. And, I still don't think I care.
Maybe that's why I never got along with people, scratch that, still don't get along with people. I always thought I just had horrid people skills, and recently I've uncovered that I just have higher expectations that most in who I associate with on a daily basis. It's one thing to have a Facebook account, filled with all those head shots of people from your past life. Where you can click "thumbs up" on one random, witty thing they manage to say in the course of a year, and then it's another to have to sit and have coffee with them on every break, and then go to a movie together after work. I just don't have those kinds of friends, or that kind of patience.
When I was diagnosed with CML I had a lot of people, unexpected people, that wanted to get together and "chat". I didn't know how to deal with the sudden influx of interest in my life, so, I did what any good recluse would do, I hid. Stopped answering my phone, stopped replying to messages, emails, texts. Ignored everything. Does that make me a bad person? or, poorly adapted to live within society? I'm not so sure I can learn now. I don't know if I'd actually want to.
I was driving around the other day and while sitting at a red light a Cadillac Escalade pulled up at the light next to me. I thought to myself, how, when I was working in the corporate offices I wanted one of these beasts of a truck. I don't even care what's under the hood. I wanted it for the "status symbol". I wanted people to KNOW I had ARRIVED! ....
Yeah, not so much anymore. You spend a year out of that frame of mind and you start to question why you ever lowered yourself to get there in the first place. Where the fuck have you really arrived when you buy a $90,000 SUV exactly? Now, when I look at the middle aged guy sitting next to me at this red light, I don't wonder what he does for work, I wonder how much ass he's had to lick? how many sets of nuts he's had to fondle? How many times did he let that little piece of raw human die inside of him, in order to ensure he could make his next months lease payment? What about when he knows the truth about it, and with those polished white vaneers, and those glossed lips, he spins the truth so some hungry consumer can swallow it easier.
"No, you won't get cancer from this new sugar substitute, BUT, you will get a smaller ass...ZERO calories hunni! Ignore the fact it tastes like shit and gives you headaches if you stop drinking it, it's only $0.99/2 Liter! How can you resist? And, don't forget you get AirMiles with EVERY PURCHASE!"
Fuck sakes.
All in all though, I'm happy today. I don't really have much to complain about, and probably even less to write about. My blood counts are back to "normal" levels, and as long as I continue to take my pills, my doctors say "things are good". I have this funny feeling deep inside of my gut not to get too comfortable. Maybe it's just female intuition, or, perhaps we just know ourselves best. After trial and error I know that when things fall into place something snaps, and I take a nose dive. So, I can never get too cocky or too comfortable in what I'm doing, or where I am. Because the higher you are, the further you have to fall. And climbing back up just ruins freshly manicured nails.
The nausea is kicking in. I don't know if it's from reading this last post, or the chemo...either way, fuck off!
When I was a kid I used to have a book with me all the time. I used to hide it under my mattress...and I used to call it "Vito", because it was my Italian Mob buddy. I could write the names and descriptions of all the assholes I knew down in"Vito" and unleash my wrath into the universe. I would imagine "Vito" setting out in the middle of the night, stalking my ex as he walked home from work and kidnapping him, locking him in an abandoned house and ripping off each toe...or something like that.
I was a pretty lonely kid.
I was too busy hating EVERYTHING to care about what New Kid set his hotel room on fire. Or, who Madonna was fucking. I actually didn't really know Hollywood existed until I was 19 or so. And, I still don't think I care.
Maybe that's why I never got along with people, scratch that, still don't get along with people. I always thought I just had horrid people skills, and recently I've uncovered that I just have higher expectations that most in who I associate with on a daily basis. It's one thing to have a Facebook account, filled with all those head shots of people from your past life. Where you can click "thumbs up" on one random, witty thing they manage to say in the course of a year, and then it's another to have to sit and have coffee with them on every break, and then go to a movie together after work. I just don't have those kinds of friends, or that kind of patience.
When I was diagnosed with CML I had a lot of people, unexpected people, that wanted to get together and "chat". I didn't know how to deal with the sudden influx of interest in my life, so, I did what any good recluse would do, I hid. Stopped answering my phone, stopped replying to messages, emails, texts. Ignored everything. Does that make me a bad person? or, poorly adapted to live within society? I'm not so sure I can learn now. I don't know if I'd actually want to.
I was driving around the other day and while sitting at a red light a Cadillac Escalade pulled up at the light next to me. I thought to myself, how, when I was working in the corporate offices I wanted one of these beasts of a truck. I don't even care what's under the hood. I wanted it for the "status symbol". I wanted people to KNOW I had ARRIVED! ....
Yeah, not so much anymore. You spend a year out of that frame of mind and you start to question why you ever lowered yourself to get there in the first place. Where the fuck have you really arrived when you buy a $90,000 SUV exactly? Now, when I look at the middle aged guy sitting next to me at this red light, I don't wonder what he does for work, I wonder how much ass he's had to lick? how many sets of nuts he's had to fondle? How many times did he let that little piece of raw human die inside of him, in order to ensure he could make his next months lease payment? What about when he knows the truth about it, and with those polished white vaneers, and those glossed lips, he spins the truth so some hungry consumer can swallow it easier.
"No, you won't get cancer from this new sugar substitute, BUT, you will get a smaller ass...ZERO calories hunni! Ignore the fact it tastes like shit and gives you headaches if you stop drinking it, it's only $0.99/2 Liter! How can you resist? And, don't forget you get AirMiles with EVERY PURCHASE!"
Fuck sakes.
All in all though, I'm happy today. I don't really have much to complain about, and probably even less to write about. My blood counts are back to "normal" levels, and as long as I continue to take my pills, my doctors say "things are good". I have this funny feeling deep inside of my gut not to get too comfortable. Maybe it's just female intuition, or, perhaps we just know ourselves best. After trial and error I know that when things fall into place something snaps, and I take a nose dive. So, I can never get too cocky or too comfortable in what I'm doing, or where I am. Because the higher you are, the further you have to fall. And climbing back up just ruins freshly manicured nails.
The nausea is kicking in. I don't know if it's from reading this last post, or the chemo...either way, fuck off!
Thursday 21 April 2011
road trip!
Leaving the city for a few days to clear my mind and cleanse my soul next to a water fall. Maybe I'll stay away for awhile. Fresh air and free spirit!
Wednesday 13 April 2011
Alice in Chains NUTSHELL tribute
I'd have to say without a doubt in my mind, this is the greatest tribute you can find on youtube for this song.
Bunny Ears
Sometimes all else fails.
When your dreams become the things that gnaw, how do you escape yourself?
Your blood, the essence of what you are, corrupts who you fought so hard to become.
Now it's over. The dream is gone.
Even when the worry fades, the static of loss remains.
Twist those bunny ears all you want, this time the static stays.
When your dreams become the things that gnaw, how do you escape yourself?
Your blood, the essence of what you are, corrupts who you fought so hard to become.
Now it's over. The dream is gone.
Even when the worry fades, the static of loss remains.
Twist those bunny ears all you want, this time the static stays.
Monday 4 April 2011
In the begining
On March 27th in the year of our lord 2011 I was diagnosed with CML. What is CML you might ask? It's clinical name is Chronic Myelogenous Leukemia. Or, better known in my world as proof of just how small you really are in the grand scheme of things. I'm 28 years old. Most people diagnosed with this type of blood cancer are in their 50-60's so the majority of the drugs that are being used to combat my new found blood nightmare have not been tested for long term success and side effects. I guess I'll be one of those lucky enough to spend the rest of my time on this planet as a guinea pigs for some big, faceless pharmaceutical company. After all, I'm grade A meat here. Young and kicking, ready to be pumped full of chemicals that if I touch I have to wash my hands right after, as it can actually be toxic to anyone besides me. I'm a walking tumor. My blood has turned against me. I'm also a drama queen, and really fucking pouty tonight.
I was working out for an hour or more 6 days a week for almost a year, as well watching what I was eating and maintaining a 1500-1800/day calorie intact to get myself in better shape. I lost a shit ton of weight doing that too, and I was feeling on top of the world. However, somehow, within that year I developed my cancer. Since my diagnosis I've been a total crabby, gluttonous sloth. Let me tell you, sugar, icecream and fatty foods have NEVER tasted as good as they have this last week. I know it's all emotional, but fuck me! it's been fun.
As of this moment though I've got to stop with the cry baby attitude, and the "woe is me" ensemble I've been wearing. Back to veggies and protein shakes. No salt added cottage cheese and water. Time to grab my body and shake the fuck out of it until it listens.
I'm a walking tumor, and my blood hates me. How the fuck do you live knowing that? knowing that if you live you live with pills, every day, for the rest of your life. I don't feel sick right now. I feel alone, but I don't feel physically sick. It's been a week and a few days since the diagnosis and I've been on Hydroxyurea (chemotherapy) for the week, along with Allopurenol to help lower my elevated uric acid levels. As of today though the cross cancer institute has started me on a new chemotherapy pill called "Gleevec". I guess it's the miracle drug that has turned my otherwise death sentence diagnosis into a possible life sentence of nausea and muscle cramps, along with a shot of edema on weekends, if I'm lucky.
Ok, I'm not complaining. What's to complain about? I've been trying to find that "silver fucking lining" here lately. Sometimes, (in the last week...haha), I think about all those people that go on day by day, "coping" with success and abundance of wealth. "Coping" with happiness and good tidings. I think about those people and wonder just how far evolved they can really be. Hardship builds character, right? hardship is what allows you to really see how full of grit you are. How far you can be pushed. I have to wonder if I was begging for this. I mean, I was...fuck...I AM, wasting my life away. I worked my whole life in jobs I've hated, for people I couldn't stand to talk to, forcing just the slightest of smiles would honestly hurt the very fiber of my being some days...but "work for pay, pay for freedom", yes? Now, I've been liberated. Now that I know I could have only years left, why would I give it away to anyone or anything that didn't matter? I just had to stop and think for a minute, I couldn't find a logical reason why anyone would, but surely not me. Not now. Which of course brings on a whole fucking array of new questions to mind, like...what do I do from here? how do I live my life to the fullest, when for 28 years I've gotten really fucking great a wasting it? Not to mention, what if I live my life to the fullest in the wrong way?
Yeah. Lots of questions. No real answers that anyone else can give me. I really am alone in all this. And SO FUCKING EMO TONIGHT! gah. Stop reading this blog. You'll thank me later. Of course, if you've got the stomach to handle my abundant slurring and just god awful punctuation, more power to you big shot. See, PROOF hardship builds character. READ MY BLOG, if you survive you shall leave stronger, (or stranger) than when you arrived.
Fuck off.
I was working out for an hour or more 6 days a week for almost a year, as well watching what I was eating and maintaining a 1500-1800/day calorie intact to get myself in better shape. I lost a shit ton of weight doing that too, and I was feeling on top of the world. However, somehow, within that year I developed my cancer. Since my diagnosis I've been a total crabby, gluttonous sloth. Let me tell you, sugar, icecream and fatty foods have NEVER tasted as good as they have this last week. I know it's all emotional, but fuck me! it's been fun.
As of this moment though I've got to stop with the cry baby attitude, and the "woe is me" ensemble I've been wearing. Back to veggies and protein shakes. No salt added cottage cheese and water. Time to grab my body and shake the fuck out of it until it listens.
I'm a walking tumor, and my blood hates me. How the fuck do you live knowing that? knowing that if you live you live with pills, every day, for the rest of your life. I don't feel sick right now. I feel alone, but I don't feel physically sick. It's been a week and a few days since the diagnosis and I've been on Hydroxyurea (chemotherapy) for the week, along with Allopurenol to help lower my elevated uric acid levels. As of today though the cross cancer institute has started me on a new chemotherapy pill called "Gleevec". I guess it's the miracle drug that has turned my otherwise death sentence diagnosis into a possible life sentence of nausea and muscle cramps, along with a shot of edema on weekends, if I'm lucky.
Ok, I'm not complaining. What's to complain about? I've been trying to find that "silver fucking lining" here lately. Sometimes, (in the last week...haha), I think about all those people that go on day by day, "coping" with success and abundance of wealth. "Coping" with happiness and good tidings. I think about those people and wonder just how far evolved they can really be. Hardship builds character, right? hardship is what allows you to really see how full of grit you are. How far you can be pushed. I have to wonder if I was begging for this. I mean, I was...fuck...I AM, wasting my life away. I worked my whole life in jobs I've hated, for people I couldn't stand to talk to, forcing just the slightest of smiles would honestly hurt the very fiber of my being some days...but "work for pay, pay for freedom", yes? Now, I've been liberated. Now that I know I could have only years left, why would I give it away to anyone or anything that didn't matter? I just had to stop and think for a minute, I couldn't find a logical reason why anyone would, but surely not me. Not now. Which of course brings on a whole fucking array of new questions to mind, like...what do I do from here? how do I live my life to the fullest, when for 28 years I've gotten really fucking great a wasting it? Not to mention, what if I live my life to the fullest in the wrong way?
Fuck off.
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