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Thursday, February 16, 2017

On my birthday, just over 3 years ago, I was given a death sentence. I was told I would degrade until vegetable like my body would wither away until it quit  breathing  heart  quit beating  leaving everything that I love behind picking up the tatters. I kissed a woman for the last time, gave away my freedom to hear my children's voices, and let almost every  thing  else  languor. And, and I researched, I fucking researched, and I fucking memory is fucked, so I have had to do the same research over and over again. Life is beautiful, but there are only three reasons on this planet worthy of the dedication and desperate seeking that I have gone through the last 40 months...otherwise I would a just fucking killed myself...but I learned a bit through that research, like that vegetable part, and the part that there are places on the planet where they heal branz like mine, so here I am in Manhattan days away from getting into one of those places.  The reality is that I am terrified. I know what the first 8 days is going to be like, as well as the 6 after that. What scares the B-Jesus out of me is what happens then, because dying a vegetable horrifies me.
All that aside, I have kissed a woman, I have celebrated a victory, and I have cried because of a glimmer of hope...
I am in Manhattan trying to live,
I might not have to die this year.

What A Day

It was a day
Like I've often said
Today was a day
Better alive
And not dead
I'm here
You're there
A gulf it would seem
The math says though
There's nothing in between
Its all the same they say
Everything's energy
Your energy spoke to mine today
Wipe the tear
Just enough to say
It was a day
Fucking A,
And a day it was!

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