Earthquake

Chemo. cancer. iv fluids, pills, pills. Earthquake. deadly. 8.8. on the Richter scale. Chile. 700 dead. Epicenter. Concepcion. looters, bandits. hope. despair. tsunami.

cracked lips, broken roofs, shortage of water. no shortage of tears. homelessness. hairlessness. more drugs.

one percocet. two percocet. a catheter.
rumble, rumble, aftershock. maybe one more pill.

where is my family? so much debris! who is under it? where to look? where to turn.
in my mouth is metal. copper. ever present. it's from within, it's inside me. this damn chemo. in my veins, in my hair, in my sweat, in my tastebuds. Fucking everywhere.

Goddamnit! where is everyone? is everyone ok? of course not. it's chaos outside and in. it doesn't end.
what now? just huddle and wait for it to pass...please let it be over soon.


(photo from NY Times)

The Evil of Cancer

The intruder comes to us in the deepest, darkest of night. A shadow that can’t be kept out by locked doors, windows or even the thickest layer of epidermous. This mass takes up residency in our body, materializing where ever it wants, because once it’s inside, we are theirs for the taking.

Time passes, oblivious that we are now the hosts for a guest that is slowly invading our body, taking control of our lives and future. Secretly, it has settled, unannounced, until pain sets in, when we finally realize something is wrong.

In it’s evil purpose, this invader starts out on it’s own; only to gain strength until it can turn it’s new home against itself. It latches on to our organs until they become one and begin to destroy them completely.

The only cure is scientific exorcism. This is not easy, as trying to destroy the invader, now the host is also being destroyed. The hope is that the host is stronger than the invader and can handle the exorcism.
Time can only tell who will be win, as many times this intruder can never truly be defeated, or cast out, it lies dormant in our insides, quietly gaining renewed strength, waiting for the next time it can strike again.

Rough Seas Ahead

So tomorrow morning I start chemo. What more can I say? Everything is going to change. I suppose it already has.

Paint Job

Dreamy (Adam and Amanda)

Hospital Beds

I found this video of one of my favorite new bands from last year, Florence and the Machine. The whole album Lungs, is pretty great, somewhat Regina Spektorish, less quirky and darker. And well, about lungs...this lady has them! Here she covers Cold War Kids' Hospital Beds, which is a great song in itself and her vocals make it even better.

Why hospital beds? Well, after an almost week long stint in the hospital I got diagnosed with cancer and will be going through chemotherapy for the next 3 months so I'm going to be seeing alot of hospital beds and iv's.
What a trip this will be. Hoping I will make it to the end of it.

A Faint Rainbow and a Vista Point