There was no hint of feeling in his eyes, no possibility of pity. Yet he advances toward you in the moving car, chains jangling, and proceeds to sit right next to you, pushing you forcibly against the wall. That's what a tumor is, an unmannerly guest. Their pursuit of freedom inevitably encroaches on yours. Their swinging fist inevitably finds your nose.
Tumors are incredibly American.
They are you, and yet they are not you. Normal cells have a purposeful DNA map. Tumor cells are cells that have lost the map. They replicate not as brain but as callus. It is stupid as meat, but it edges out the pulsing angel that is your mind.