The Age of Cancer

October 30, 2015

I had to pack up my life and move it again. I rented from a landlady that is short on being able to share what she rents to you, a control freak. Yep she knows I have end stage liver disease, she often commented, " don't you think you will longer than everyone else, you look like you will live longer than everyone else." Right'o...thats why I need a transplant, just in case. Quite stupid, I think but perhaps not, perhaps she wasn't thinking. I lived there a few weeks, all moved in, not organized yet and she wants me to move, why, I ask, its not working out she replies. Five months later, again, its not working out. Guess not if all a landlady seems to want to do when home, which is most of the time, is watch my every move. I cycle hard, no not often, not enough energy in my liver for often. I hoop dance like a Viking gymnyist. I am willing to work my body, my organs because if I don't I will die even sooner. Without exercise, there is stagnation that nails me down. Its insane pushing myself back onto my mountain or race bike, it takes knowing, do it or watch your eyes turn the color of honey then turn the color of dingy dish water. Watch your gut inflame from lack of circulating blood and oxygen, sit there gal and soon you will be strutting a belly that suggests 3 months pregnant, maybe 4 or 5 months, I've had it fill with 13 pounds to 19 pounds of just water. It takes a mother load of humility to wear it because my face on its best best best most unusual day might suggest age 53 but I turn 64 soon, not many days I can fool folks at my age. So the image: my god that old woman looks pregnant, look at her, really its a normal reaction from eyes to brain to try to fathom it. Most folks have no idea what dying of liver cancer looks like, I sure as hell did not. I am fucking upside down with exhaustion, its either now or tomorrow but I got to cycle so hard it damn near kills me. My trunk is getting hard as a true trunk. I am dragging my truck on a long arduous journey into its death, basically. Fun, I get to create that. People, I can barely do people, too many contradictions in them, my mind is not on a journey much like anyone else's. Folks are living, dreaming, hanging in groups, you can count on them. I on the other hand am fairly well done with society. The only dreams I have are staying alive a little longer, I do not want to leave my children. My other dream is that I get to live on one of these islands till I die on one of them. Not ready at all but fuck, I do not want to have to leave here where it is warm and I can be in the ocean. I want that even though everything I do, I do alone or with my dog Roxy. I cannot much focus on getting much involved with humans, its disappointing on the outside, with them, my mind is so full of the thoughts, "you've no idea how hard standing around or lying around is. Cycling, hooping, swimming, I forget about humans, I do not think much about my fatigue. Being alive is my joy. I do not know much other joy or experience it with humans. I experience very little intimacy any longer. Most folks will take a step back from the ill and stand a mile away from the dying. I was once no different. I was well and lost in my life. So blaming anyone is a stupid joke, its ridiculous. The energy I release suggests "don't get too close to me." I do not want to keep being hurt. I have friends of decades and now when I need them most, I do not hear from them. No, please do not get too close to me because I know you will forget me, disappear into your own life and health then I must learn all over again to accept its your choice, I once again get to start over having no one and begin again alone. I have learned that for me, its easier to skip having to start over again and just keep alone with Roxy. But I long for love, I long for true connection, I long for small considerations after all I have liver cancer.

December 16, 2015

I found a new home, its lovely here. I am back again in the flow of humans, all ages of people surround me and they are all always moving. I am back in surf territory, The Seven Mile Miracle as its know to the surf mecca of the world. People wake early and run, walk, jump on bikes, head with boards to ride the fierceness in the morning's ocean currents, the days, the evenings. The beach is out my kitchen door. Children are on bikes dressed for the elementary school down the bike path. Dogs are being walked. Its a carnival of folks here. Ah just the break I needed, my landlady throwing me out because I landed in the sweet flowing embrace of a neighborhood where folks are so engaged in their lives and the island that keeps them too busy to sweat the small junk that all we human annoy each other with. Oh yep, I still keep much to myself but we do not pass each other here without a nod, a good morning, good day, good nite and now and then there are conversations. Its so easy here to exercise, I just feel the neighborhoods energy and let it lift me. I had wanted to feel this alive again, I had wanted to feel visible, I was longing for attention, I was hungry for human behavior I could identify with. My take is, the universe arranged this. All I wanted was passion not stagnation and I was mired in stagnant energy for more than two years. I learned a great deal when held down. I always do.