I was going to write intelligently here, but I can't. I can't write intelligently about much of anything. We had ups and downs for months and months now, at least since the end of August. It's been awful. Cancer spreads like violent animals hysteric and rabid, coursing wherever they can, inordinately stupid animals, brainless and without a thought.
Cancer falls to the weakest failing organs.
I feel jobless, unstable, caught with these miseries, too much to deal with at the moment. But it's a question of always crawling, crawling. You're born into brilliance and wonder in the world with your mouth open for the breast and your eyes learning the amazing senses that can be made of flows and fluids, and you live through incredible hardenings and the naming of things and occurrences. You can search out holes and the levels beneath things - tables, couches. You stare at the sun case you're not supposed to and you walk away unblinded.