From Werner Herzog's remake with Klaus Kinski as Nosferatu, based mostly on the silent Murnau adaptation of the Stoker novel, I leave you with a quote, and one that says maybe it's not Lucy with whom I should resonate, but the monster himself: “To be unable to grow old is terrible... Death is not the worst...”
Gentlemen born of Sparkle and cut Open to remove those Blasted ugly things Radiating with half Life and spring Practices.
#Stage4cancer brings to mind a place a movie might portray. For instance the inescapable slow walking monster approaches my house and I hear the ugly abhorrent thing rapping, scraping on my door. Perhaps, more subtly, one dark and stormy night, the wind kicks up frightening me with a tree branch running its claws along my windows. Am I dreaming in color of the darkest places my consciousness has to offer …
In the country of Illness I live in a town called sick Squabbling and wordless Rounded outwardly and thick.
Hey, congratulations you’ve got stage IV cancer of the breast and bone lesions. Well, that explains why I wasn’t feeling so well. I recall receiving an email right before that most horrible week from a good friend and the email required my immediate attention. My attention won’t relate to anything at all back then when I had the diagnosis come down on me so hard I didn’t know when or …
The pain in your veins, heat aghast, you faint. The hole swallows her body and soul. Why in the universe do we know something exists at all, If we pretend to see, to know, bite a fruit and fall. Algorithmic syncopated circus acts, And drums tight as a father's facts.
A well-positioned boy who smokes out a window, Discarding his amusement for a hummingbird. His green sharkskin suit, brightly alert - Dusted by sunshine, weakened with night. Heartbeats, just over a wing he spots you. In the span of a wink, He's gone from the ledge.
I find along side the road I’m currently on in my life with cancer, not waste and detritus, but people. Not hitchhikers, but people waving to me and telling me to keep going and not to stop since its rather unnecessary.
We all fall down. The ground grows smaller, As I pass the Earth, Becoming her daughter. Funny to stand today, Eclipsing the sun. My books marked still, On page one.
https://www.etsy.com/listing/500887842/vintage-rhinestone-encrusted-button-withButtons – it started with buttons. Vintage and old buttons to be precise. Hundreds became thousands. My theory: button mitosis. The rhinestone 1950s button you see above, one of the latest acquisitions, stands alone as a thought prototype come true by a nameless, faceless designer. I look at them as though I can save enough […]