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Kids

Finn

i listened to his heart beat today; fast and small like a bird in a cage. my own heart beat underwater in the bath tonight, thick with life and all its abuses, slow and tired. my head underwater listening to its throb in this peace or steady chaos i’m comfortable but i have to get out for my baby bird.

the best, only, and happiest reason is finn. our baby bluebird, the shadow of my better self. his baby cough racks my chest, his cries make my heart ache. my heart explodes when i dream of him, when i wake to him it cries at his perfection.

this was a trap. i’m still me, blue to the core. but i have the golden ticket now, the key to the universe, sleeping in my arms. this being ties me to this place and i can’t run because i can’t run from myself, my baby bird. such a tricky trap, full of love and desperation and the bitterest cruelest happiness.

Shenanigans

Suh b

I have observed, with a critical eye, both myself and others; compared global statistics, and read research papers written on this subject. Children of divorced parents and unusual family structures are more likely to experience emotional turbulence in their own relationships and have a higher risk of going through breakups in their marriages, study after study claims. But while researchers are busy focusing on the repercussions of imperfect marriages, no one know the extent of the damage cause by a “normal” and “perfect” family, if there is such a thing. Is there a method to assess the wear and tear domestic bourgeois life inflicts upon our souls and our imagination and our creativity?

Salmon brekkie, new whip, September swim, shop tent, chill zone, curry (no order)

This goes right back to the parenting thing-- if I had a kid, and I had a choice between teaching somebody how to avoid trouble, or teaching them how to get out of it, I'd teach them how to get out of it.

Water park water ballon water

The future

l’ete

things are a little bit different this summer. i’m a spectator more than participant. it’s a challenge for me...i like doing, going, making. i guess this is my new level to conquer- satisfaction, contentment. easily the hardest goals for me to attain thus far.

This was real but I've forgotten

3 am, waking to radiator blasting you turned on heat for me last night, a final gift. But it's too much the heat, I wake and then the thoughts stampeding in, blocking the road to back to sleep. We fought earlier, I was tired of being told that everything is going to be fine and that people love me and that this is the best cancer. You were tired maybe, having taken the brunt of weeks of tears, emotions, and appointments and medical professionals and hospitals and clinics and paperwork and tears, emotions. I think of the fight, I won't say thank you for this, I'm not grateful, that you have no idea how it feels, to sit patiently while darkness grows in you smiling smiling smiling at the nice words and cards when there is a darkness in my throat that is spreading and neither you nor i or any doctor can really do anything to stop it. The is no magic, no miracles, the mayo clinic hand stretches broad and takes all it can but nothing solid nothing true is offered in return we are mortal and we will die. So we fought. And now at 3am I think about the fight and the dark and tomorrow. Steady hands, I wish (to earthly deities dirt water air blood) for steady hands, contained tumours. For good result in a week, for future considerations.

summer outside

i lost my(physical)self

there are things happening to me that i don’t understand. a tiny cell changes and grows, replicating and duplicating and transforming. it send out tendrils to surrounding areas, spreading itself, stretching to neighboring tissue. a dark and fixed mass, emanating from my throat. i’m lucky, i guess. so i hear. so i know. i’ve read a million things and absorbed only the negative and scary but what i’m told and what seems to be true is that my doctors got in front of the darkness. they carved it out, pulled out the roots, and now there is a gaping hole.

there are things happening to me that i don’t understand. a tiny cell changes and grows, replicating and duplicating and transforming. it spread itself, grows itself, eats what i eat breathes what i breath feels how i feel. a bright and mobile mass, emanating from my stomach. i’m lucky, i know. i know from me. i don’t read anything and i try not to think too much. my doctors are surprised and a bit concerned, it’s very soon they say, despite this they shake their heads and smile and congratulate. this energy in me will do what it needs to do, come flying out if or when its ready, and fill space with lightness.

the problem is, i can’t seem to differentiate between the two. there are things happening to me that i don’t understand. a tiny cell is changing and growing, and i’m fucking terrified that its going to eat me and destroy my world and explode what little tone is left. i don’t know my hands to look at them, don’t know these legs to run with. i feel my insides growing and shifting and i’m not connected to it, this body is no longer mine it stopped being mine when that first cell (the bad one) turned on me.

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