The deathly hallow's eve

This is a neural cell dendrite from the brain of a mouse. This is how we think. A little chemical droplet comes out or oozes out of an opening and chemically electrically crosses a gap - a synapse, and that turns on the other side of the gap and the electricity shoots down it like a wire. To the next gap. And so on and so on endlessly and at the speed of light, seamlessly, so you don't even know it. All over your body. All over all over. And inside your brain and my brain. Drugs and drinks and juices flood these places and fuck it all up and now my nerves are in revolt. They are all very very unhappy with me right now and in fact one of them screamed at me and I screamed back. On I35, while wobbling almost out of a lane. I auditioned for a scene in movie, yelling and then yelling more to see if it would help. Apparently this drug called Neulasta that sets up shop in your spongy marrow and cranks up a factory to offset the offset of your immune system (translate - help you not croak during nadir) has a hurty component and that literally KICKED in today.

 

Still waiting on a moment of Zen. Doctor says hmmm...must be sensitive and maybe I should drop one of the drugs - may be too much. Will try a new anti nausea thing next cycle (if I am not off a cliff by then) called the sancouso patch. Sancuso maybe. San means without and couso seems like a side dish of little round things that was in style in the 90s. Remember the whole Nile brand parmeson couscous revolution. Oh my it's so beyond rice! We all pretended to like it because we thought it was more sophisticated but secretly we knew it was bland and wormy. My dad moved on to orzo and we had so many discussions of whether or not it was or was not actually rice or pasta or was rice pasta actually? In this way in these revolving conversations about bland oval ellipsoidal objects we actually conducted the nature of our love toward each other.

But I have hopes for my without couscous. My patch of zen.

 

The most wise person of all in my advisors, Alex, gave me a picture of a tiny deer in a class photo. This was perfection in its perfect inane Dadaistic tininess. Things are very tiny right now.

Ziggy played guitar

Like a leper Messiah
Turn and face the changes. I am trying Mr. Bowie. I hear you. I know that these children that you spit on are quite aware. I am too. This has been entirely too hard for me and I worry if I am up to the task. Actually I lie - I don't even think about that, I am not even there yet. Only to get to the next hour right now. I am so acutely aware of how six ounces of red poison will ruinate an entire galaxy of a human - her comets are flaring out, her sun is retracting and the core is starting to compact and implode and the gravity is uneven and the Doppler effect is going the wrong way as the redshift turns orange.

Like a boss. Someone said I was like a BOSS today and that made my day. A student. Contrary to popular idea or the idea of popular ideas, young people are not all or maybe not any -just selfish machines. Every semester that I teach learn - I find little treasures among the forests of younger humans and I know that things will be ok later in this country of old men. Cynthia and Stephanie are glinting.

One of my bookclubs (I am in 237 of them, mostly in my head, but two actuals) texted a photo that said they missed me. Oh how I missed them that night. I will stuff my face with your cheese and crackers next time I see you I promise, I shall steal them right out of your fancy ringed hands and laugh at you when you bite the air. I will be hungry.