I stay busy living or figuring out how to get back to it. I will hoop dance and cycle thru lots of misery if I can just get up. Inertia is depression for me. Five years ago I could hoop dance 5 hours non stop on the beach in hot sun. I ate bananas and drank water with hoops spinning around my waist. I love life. I love the rushes in my brain from living it. I feel like an electrical current and I work hard to feel that spark turn into a blaze in my brain and spirit. I am an endorphin junkie. But its five years later. Now I can manage 5 hours a week of hooping but no longer than 2 hours back to back. For that I never know what price I will pay. I may be laid flat for a week for doing it or if lucky I will get up again the next day to cycle or hoop. Now and then I can go thru that strong cycle an entire week but its going to flatten me. The lights will go off and the curtain will drop and its misery in this bed. I never know how long I will be pinned down with the hands of fatigue around my spirit. I detest those hands and I struggle and fight my way out of their choke hold.
Cancer is a mean old bitch. Now I have two of those bitches on me. Thats a bit too much to fight but I do. One sister owns my liver while her sister owns my lungs. I get to fight for what I get from them now. We hiss and claw at each other. Sometimes the show is entirely theirs but I can still steal the stage they stole from me. They possess no love, no tolerance, no forgivness and when I get the stage, I worship the sun, the moon, the stars. I long for the clouds. I long to drift as they do sometimes so gentle, so beneviolent, so blue above me, so far above me. I hope when I die I become like them. I do not belong with death, I belong with life. I belong to hope. I belong to the future of longing and loving. I belong with butterflies and Ewa birds. Cancer can fell my body but not my spirit, thats not possible. It has always been here. Its going nowhere, its the only thing I know for sure but I will miss my life here, I will miss feeling and loving who I am, who I choose to become. Not everyone takes that choice as seriously as I did over and over. I am lucky.i have drank from the well of love deeply and I have paid its price, its not bitter, it can be bittersweet but in hindsite I am glad I suffered before suffering, there is so much sweet joy.
So as I now watch it all fall away from me like meat from a bone, it all seems so beautiful, every friend, every lover, every and anything that moved thru life in all meaures of of varying currents. The sweetest thing in life is love, add some music, some stars or blue sky, a little moon light and I am drunk on its nectar. I never want to stop. I never want to come down for a landing. I must be forced either by my own greedy lovely hands or by something cruel and wicked that needed to take me as its host so it could feed from my life to have one of its own. I would slay them if there was a way but sooner or later we must all acknowledge that we had our turn, take a bow, enjoy and embrace that last bit of applause and if possible smile, close our eyes forever and give up our own creation of ourself. Everyday I wonder if its my last performance. Fuck, I just got great at living andnow I must go. I hope its with the clouds. I am sure its not alone. As long as I remember you, I am not alone then when I must forget I do not fear the winds or the silences that will overcome me.
I was here, I got to live. I know love, I know life, like I know the eyes looking back at me in the mirrors of my entire life. Thats rich. I will always want more but I cannot die without having had more than enough of everything. Life is an exqusite affair…