What Story To Tell

Today has been a day that began with a little lesss stress, or maybe a little more hope. Which it is.. is hard to tell, but it felt different.. LEARNING THAT YOUR ILL ALWAYS HAS IT EFFECTS…  YET i USE TO FANCY MYSELF A WRITER. Someone who is well apt with words and emotional overtures.. Yet I haven’t been abl to find any words that I can train together or even manipulate to sound like good anything. I wondered if it was because to truly write I would have to be so  honest… But I don’;t know exactly what is honest are not at this point. Thats when I see a post… ” my health is not imporoving… I realie at this moment that is not SOMETHING THAT TROUBLES ME.. Getting better.. then I see another post, the dangers of cancer, the pain of cancer, my family and cancer.. i am not stirred.. I am not moved… while I have this tumor.. am downing steroids after waiting four months for treatment after my state aid didn’tt seem to work ir self out… I realized that every experience of being ill is not always an emotional experience and that was my style of writing.. I am not feeling soemotional.. I am feeling like I wish I had more oney.. I am feeling like I wish I could center my thoughts like I use to.. I am feeling like I would sleep more… I wish my radiatioin treatment lasted longer everyday… because my technician is changing my opinions of my predjuice of people like him an the table is cold… and my body is usually so hot…. during these few minutes everyday I feel like I am working toward getting better. i am feeling like Steroids are a devil drug because they have caused me to gain 40 pounds in 4 months and I am so uncomfortable….. yet none of things make me feel like writing, none of things make me feel like me, but yet I don;t feel so detached from myself I pity anything about my experience about these moments in my life. I have a tumor.. I can’t wait and I don’t feel all that emotional… I can’t wait begin chemotherapy.. I am ready to move forward.. but I am not ready to cry.. Then it’s back to what story do I tell… Do I tell the story of a girl who escapes into a world of desire… a place she desires of a life after the struggle… or do I tell the story of the event, of the days, of the moments, of the cold slabs, and sweet technicians that make bad days seem like retreats for  healing… how God brought me back to a place i would have have seen as painful to find myself in fits full of laughter and introspection… Yet I suppose like all things…. the layers of situations are never quite as simple as they seem and every story is mostly likely buried way beneath the surface and are never what you think the story truly is…

Most of my answers are never quite as neat as I want them o be… and are left unanswered.. but I do know that this show…. Masters of SEX was addicting and mouth watering and heart snagging all at once….

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September 28, 2014 · 3:36 am

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