Sunday

This scarf is from Laura, very pretty.

I think my mood is subterranean dread. I don't quite acknowledge it here on the surface but my body KNOWS what is coming. Deep apathy for life and life sustenance, plus ugliness - in my surroundings and mirror. I'm sick to death of people telling me I'll look good bald - I think that's a bald lie. Speaking of lies I also hear that I'm so brave and honest. What other way is there to be? It would be twisted and demented not in a good Rocky Horror way to FAKE that you were all sunshine and destiny hope about drinking toxic evil juice through an implanted straw to your heart wouldn't it?

 

I do not mean I have no optimism - like in the movies I know this'll end ok, at least this round - it's the blah yuck abyss that I detest and fear, not quite death itself. 

Thursday is coming. Chemo round two and the anticipation is illing me. Do you know I dread it? 24 hours a day? Thursday is named after the Norse god Thor, known for thunder, and lately, for being kinda hunktastic on TV. It's a cool day usually - almost the weekend. No more for me.

Here are some other ways to say it:

• Middle English – thursday or thuresday
• Old Norse– thorsdagr – Thor’s day
• Old English– thunresdæg – Thunder’s day
• Latin – dies Jovis – “Day of Jupiter”
• Ancient Greek – hemera Dios – “day of Zeus”

And a painting I stole from online.

I shall smite the cancer on Thor's day!!!

Ha ha just kidding I'm not that cheery.

Too cranky to write much, let us devolve down to lists:

 

GOOD ITEMS OF NOTE

Got a free massage today with the kindly Susan - I was a subject at an oncology massage workshop. Had to undress naked in a room of 70 people (behind a sheet but who cares) and it was very dreamy.

 

Going to a dinner party tonight with wonderful women friends. Always welcome.

Vicki is coming from Californy to play and stay and take care of me.

 

Food tastes more ok - like 73% normal. Today.

English breakfast tea is nice.

Chaos of teenage girls - they entertain me with hilarity all the time. And my little silly one snuggles me.

Friends are coming out of the woodwork thank you all.

NOT HALLMARK-ESQUE ITEMS - however some of these are kind of funny and then that way they have some positive qualities:

The hair. The hair!!!! Like OMG. If I scratch an itch 37 hairs fly off. If I dassen to do a little style enhancing scrunch - 52 hairs dive out. The drain! Black with wet tiny thin twigs. At this rate it'll blow off in the next gust. People keep asking: When will it all fall off? How long does it take? Will your eyebrows fall out too? And oh no what about your LASHES?!!! And I repeat over and over in a dull voice (for I am a dull boy) "I don't know." Because I don't know. 

Anticipation. Not the Carly one. Thinking about how the dementors will suck and suck and sucubus the life out of me, gray me, and coat my world with a thin sickening veil of oil gray oil in four days is hurting my puffy pink clouds of mood. I'm quite adept at compartmentalizing and I'm employing that skill believe you me you'd maybe not know but my body knows and it's pulling me down. I think I already posted this video but so what. I will put the lyrics too:

 

SWIMMING HOME by Evanescence
Way down
I've been way down
Underneath this skin
Waiting to hear my name again

I'm sorry
Nothing can hold me
I adore you still
If I hear them calling
And nothing can hold me

Way down
(Do you really want me?)
All the way down
(Do you really want me?)
I will hear your voice
(Do you really want me?)
But I'll no longer understand
(No one's really loved me)

I'm sorry
Nothing can hold me
I adore you still
But I hear them calling

I was looking to the sky
When I knew I'd be swimming home
And I cannot betray my kind
They are here - it's my time

I'm sorry
Nothing can hold me
(Do you really want me?)
I adore you still
But I hear them calling - (calling)
And nothing can hold me