The Daily {W}rite April 2020 wk o3

Well, finally. Got my financial aid. I've been paying bills on the cancer therapy since last September and they decided to give me a 90% write off . . . on seven bills. Okay, thanks. But that's not much and I'm running out of cash AND I'm still being treated for cancer. So, I guess I'll call and thank them for the financial aid and see if I can start paying off my bills with a hundred a month. But I'm not even sure I can do that.

It's too easy. Let myself fall into a depression. I'm not going to allow myself to do that. I'm gonna write. My friend David is running for the House of Representatives . . . I think. I thought he was running for a senate seat. The House is good, though. He's happy about it. He feels like he's doing something with his life. I'm happy for him and plan to help however I can.

I find myself smiling as I write. Why? I don't know. For a second I allow myself to feel sorry for . . . myself. That makes me laugh . . . no not laugh . . . just smile. I have a good life. I have things to do to make even better existence for myself and my friends and the occasional stranger, I guess. THAT makes me shift from a smile into a full-throttle grin.  AaaaahahahahahaHA! Life is often better than we know.

Thursday, April 16, 2o2o
I have to, I must get this anger of mine under control. I can't control anger, yeah, I know that, but I can learn to express it a bit more . . . quietly. Amiable. Look, I don't usually post other's work . . . but this piece really said a lot to me today when I heard it recorded on YouTube.

Be Kind

we are always asked

to understand the other person's

viewpoint

no matter how

out-dated

foolish or

obnoxious.

one is asked

to view

their total error

their life-waste

with

kindliness,

especially if they are

aged.

but age is the total of

our doing.

they have aged

badly

because they have

lived

out of focus,

they have refused to

see.

not their fault?

whose fault?

mine?

I am asked to hide

my viewpoint

from them

for fear of their

fear.

age is no crime

but the shame

of a deliberately

wasted

life

among so many

deliberately

wasted

lives

is. -Charles Bukowski

Bukowski said it better than I could ever say it. What a very "contemporary" exploration of what we are going through right now. I tend to be less than tolerable of conservatives. I consider them to be the enemy of democracy, of the U.S. of the Constitution of the United States, the Bill of Rights, and of we the people of the United States. I've called them evil on Facebook, and I got smacked down for it. How could you say that? How can I say that? Because they are. Still, after his debacle with COVID-19, the conservative party supports Donald Trump.  How could anyone who is NOT totally evil support this tyrant? 
10:15 p.m.
I don't have the temperament to be a politician. David is better suited for it. A mild manner but not a pushover. Me? I'm an old, very tiny bulldog. I get angry so fast. Stressed out. I'm a screamer, a shouter and cuss like a live wire. Better for me and the people who decide to fuck with me to just NOT talk about politics. AaaaaaahahahahahahahaHA! Yeah, that'll happen.

Friday, April 21, 2o2o
Wow! Life just took off and again . . . I didn't get much written done on the blog! Well. Anyway.

1.  I think I am depressed because this murderous POTUS, Donald Trump is going to get away with it.  32,230 dead in the U.S. as of today. More, of course, will come along tomorrow. For me, Donald Trump is guilty of the murder of these Americans. He either stonewalled getting out there and trying to stop it either because of politics (he wanted to brand COVID-19 as a hoax created by the Democrats and the "Fake" newsmedia to keep him from being reelected.) or because he is just too inept, unqualified to deal with a pandemic situation. 32,230 American citizens died because of this homicidal idiot.

2.  Darkness is just now taking over the sky. Where I live in Norman, OK right next to the OU campus, during the day it's beautiful a wonderful place to walkabout. The campus especially is nice. Lots of wonderful lawn art, beautiful buildings. But at night, just when it gets dark? It turns into a rather disturbing place. Lots of nooks and crannies for dark things to hide, to watch you. Still lovely but always good to not walk across campus at night . . . alone.
3.  Think that's all from me tonight. As dark as it is outside? A deeper, darkness is shining inside my  . . . heart? No, it seems its blackness is slipping like a veil over my mind, my consciousness.  Sometimes disappointment comes calling in the shape of old memories . . . My life. A life, I guess. Like any other, I suppose. But that's not the way it's supposed to be, is it? Isn't each life supposed to be unique, exciting, worth the effort that it takes to live it? I think this is it for me tonight. HA! I just looked and these entries are not the end of the second week but only three days into the third week! Lots of time left to write tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow! {smiles}

Sunday, April 19, 2o2o

Death. Life. Beckett was the man for me in examing the idea of birth and death. The quote above, They give birth astride of a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it's night once more . . . is from Beckett's Waiting for Godot. I think that Beckett considered "life" that time between birth and death as being . . . absurd, silly, a waste of time because no matter what you do . . . sooner or later you . . .  you die, bite the big one, the big sleep, the eternal land of Nod, dust unto dust. The closer I come to death the more I think about it.

The poem on the right was written by me. I've written a lot of poems with death as the main character. Well, not exactly true. The main culprit in most of my poetry isn't death or time . . . but gravity. Gravity is the enemy of life. Gravity attacks you the moment you are born and slowly, very slowly drags you down into the grave.

Tuesday, April 21, 2o2o

Well, things change real fast sometimes. Or at least it feels that way. Been on chemotherapy for seven months. Yesterday:
Came out of the blood room ready to go home after they tell me if I need . . . "Look at your arm," David said. I looked down at my left hand, at the wrist a steady stream of blood. I went up to the front desk, showed it to the lady at the front desk . . . her eyes wide she hurriedly phoned the back area. . . and the blood nurse came out grabs a hold of my right arm and hurries me into her blood station. It seems that I got a "gusher." That's what she and the other bloodsucker said. They unwrapped the arm and right in the middle the elbow joint (the distal biseps tendon . . . yeah, I had to look it up.), there was a small ball of cotton just soaked in blood . . . my blood. They worked fast, the one who took the blood put a big chunk of cotton on the wound and the other bloodsucker wrapped it back up nice and tight. Problem solved.

A few minutes later, I'm in an examination room. A knock on the door, two seconds later the doctor entered. And the rest of this story? Well, I'm putting all that in my 72nd B-day poem. Don't want to leave you hanging too much . . . the diagnosis is not good.

The Daily {W}rite April 2020 wk. o2

You know, I'm not a big fan of talking my politics on this blog. I don't know why. I suppose that this blog needs to be more about my everyday life and not some political philosophy that is only important to me and has nothing to do with anyone else. But today, Bernie decided to drop out of the race and give Biden the go-ahead. And I'm glad he did. And it appears he's not taking his marbles and going home. He plans to be a part of Biden's campaign. And that's damn good too because we need him and his followers. But his followers. They're very upset that Bernie quit. they are mourning their loss . . . but are they? I've come to the conclusion that most people aren't as supportive of our democracy, not as supportive as they are about their own feelings. Their not sad for Bernie as much as they are sad for themselves. Ego. just that . . . ego. They're pissed or sad because they didn't get what they wanted, and all they wanted was to WIN! Not Bernie, but each individual supporter of Bernie wanted their voice to be heard . . . and that's okay . . . but it's more like they wanted to be the boss. Why? because they have "great" ideas for America? No, because they have great ideas for themselves. They don't really care about anything except winning . . . not for the country, for the Constitution of the United States, not for the Bill of Rights . . . but for their individual selves. Does that remind you of anybody?

Saturday, April 11, 2o2o 2:10 a.m.

Yes, I have slid past Friday without writing even a scribble on the blog. I'm a child with a boo-boo and refuses to do anything other than camp out on the couch and nurse my sore being. Every part of me hurts. My mind doesn't believe it . . . and all day my body keeps reminding my mind . . . we just went through a bone marrow biopsy yesterday and it really hurt this time . . . asshole.

2:00 p.m.
1.  I keep thinking about all the troubles going on in the world and try to do something about it and find that at least in this moment . . . there's not much I can do. But I also know that I will continue to try because that is what I'm meant to do.
2.  Reality is that which we experience whether it's real or not.
3.  Dreams are as real as the waking dreams we dream.
4.  I'm not an expert on anything. Which makes me an expert on everything.
Choose to be . . . that's all the choice you need to make.
5.  Beyond here is there. If you go there, it becomes here and you can look back and see there where you were before.

Sunday, April 12, 2o2o

Cold world outside my door. Cold . . . both physically and metaphorically. The TV keeps telling me through its PSAs that I should NOT under any circumstances leave my apartment. If I need groceries, have someone whose not categorized as being "elderly." Yeah. I'm elderly. And according to the PSA, IF I even dare to go to the grocery store . . . I'm a dead elderly.

My friend David Slemmons is running for Congress! Wow! I went with him to the capital to file. I was calling it "enlisting" but all my friends reminded me that's not a proper term. The proper way . . . He filed, he's filing. No, not enlisted. That would mean he was going into military service . . . and I guess . . .  he really is.

Tuesday, April 14, 2o2o
Again. Another day missed writing on the blog. But no excuses. Yesterday. The blood count was high enough that I didn't need a blood transfusion. However, my platelets were low . . . so, I did go back for a twenty-minute transfusion of platelets. Here's some funny stuff about my cancer treatment. I had blood drawn Thursday and Monday . . . and I got a call today that my blood vile of blood got lost! I know. They lost my blood. I fantasized that my blood wasn't lost . . . it was stolen by blood pirates. Why? Why would someone steal my corroded blood? Because someone found out that my bad blood was bad but was the only blood that could KILL COVID-19. So, the took my blood to a secret lab so they could make a cure to save the whole world. Okay, that's probably . . . probably not true. The probably . . . no, they lost it. Anyway, here's my blog for the week. Maybe next week I'll have more to say.  {smiles}

The Daily {W}write April 2020 wk. o1

So, here it is, April and I plan to write a lot. One more month until my birthday. Well, a little more than a month. I love the month of April. Winter is now a memory. Even though it wasn't that bad of a winter. Went to Walmart today. Trump's stupid, idiotic news conference:  "You’re talking about 2.2 million deaths,” Trump said, referring to an Imperial College study that identified 2.2 million people as the high end of how many Americans could die if no measures were taken to slow the spread of coronavirus. “So, if we can hold that down, as we’re saying, to 100,000, it’s a horrible number, maybe even less, but to 100,000, so we have between 100 [thousand] and 200,000, we altogether have done a very good job.” -Vox.  Really hit home with everybody. Lots of surgical masks floating through Walmart. Signs on the floor showing everybody the sic foot rule. Even the counter at the pharmacy is blocked off so you have to lean over a little to pay for the prescription. And walking around pushing that cart. Everybody frightened to even pass someone while going down a skinny aisle to get toilet paper or paper towels, AND both TP and PT are regulated. You can only buy so much at one time. It is an adventure. 

Thursday, April o2, 2o2o

I look out the window at the empty streets, the empty parking lots . . . where are the squirrels running from tree to tree? Where are the sparrows bathing in the pothole on the corner of Felgar and Trout, yes, the sparrow's swimming hole that always seems to be full of muddy waters? And crows and eagles the random Beechcraft Bonanza airplane heading for the local airport? I don't like this world where everything that makes the world the world has disappeared, gone, like magic . . . gone.
I wrote this last night. Before falling to sleep. Pretty much the whole world is COVID-19 focused these days. Can't help it, really. I mean, we all grew up on the zombie apocalypse movies and . . . this virus thing sure does feel like the same thing. All of us The Walking Dead. What? We are zombies?! No. Actually, the reference to The Walking Dead  in the TV show is a metaphor for the human characters and not the flesh eaters. AND the origin of the name The Walking Dead refers to the 1/9 infantry division, USMC. During the Vietnam War, the 1/9 sustained the highest casualty rate in Marine Corps history.  Hence, the name. 

8:21 pm 

Lately, my attention has time-warped to my time in Vietnam. Maybe COVID-19 reminds me of those times. Not sure how they fit together . . . but as far as personal experience goes, they seem to be related in some way . . . at least, in my mind. Who knows. The only problem with being on house arrest? The ghosts keep showing up. The ghosts! For me, I've always thought that memories were the only ghosts that haunt me, all of us. But I have to be careful. Friends of mine are very much into the supernatural. ALL of my friends have seen . . . a ghost! I doubt it . . . but then again . . . how could I know? So, I came up with this little saying that lets me walk that tightrope between believing and not believing in the supernatural: I don't believe in ghosts/And hope that ghosts/Don't believe in me . . . 

Friday, April o3, 2o2o
3:42 am

Just a few words as I wait for the morning coffee to get done. I should explain my coffeemaker broke down last week or so. The hot plate still works so instead of replacing this one I decided to just heat some water and pour it through the filter by hand. It just takes a while to heat up the water and then cup by cup pour it over the coffee grounds. 
10:32 pm

Sorry. Not much writing today. Well, not writing on the blog but I did a marathon on a poem today . . . 64 lines. 4 lines of footnotes. Pretty damn good poem, I think. But not going to post it here. Look for it on Facebook.

Okay, I'm again gonna cut it short because I'm binging a TV series (two seasons), American Gods. You know, I watched it a while back and loved it . . . but I barely remember it. So, this binge is like watching it for the first time. 

Saturday, April o4, 2o2o
Went out to get food. We went to Walmart for food items I can't get anywhere else in town. David likes the mouthwash from Walmart, don't know why. I guess because it's cheaper. The Pepperidge Farm Whole Grain Bread, German Dark Wheat is a favorite of mine. Gotta taste to it, a little bitter, strong. Mmm. Anyway, David talked to someone in Walmart to have a trash can out in the parking lot so we could throw away things like empty coffee cups from Starbucks. He wrote about it on Facebook and boy! People really came out to tell him (and indirectly me) that he shouldn't be going to Walmart . . . because . . . well, they said because it's not safe but the real reason seems to be some kind of political vendetta people have against Walmart. I don't like that. I don't like people using this Orange Plague we are suffering through as some kind of way to upgrade a political belief.

Sunday, April o5, 2o2o
Wow! Post this poem on Facebook:

So, I got over 72 likes for this poem! And 67 comments! The comments are mostly dealing with how sorry my Facebook friends are to hear about my fight against cancer. And a few of these friends I haven't ever heard from before! That's the power of dying, guys! Okay, I shouldn't be acting silly about cancer. AND I really do appreciate from every area in my heart the love people are showing me. And I plan to write more about my cancer and how it's going with me. I got a little sidetracked with writing poems revolving around my thoughts on  COVID-19. But I'm back to writing my cancer poetry and I plan to document my journey through the cancer jungle.  P.S. The pic above with me getting a blood transfusion was taken by David Slemmons and messed with on LunaPic by me. My favorite cancer pic of me. P.S.S. I do not understand what is going on with my blog site but it's driving me crazy!

Tuesday, April o7, 2o2o

I missed yesterday. Sorry. Mondays are just bad for me because Mondays are when I go back to oncology to give blood so they can see how I'm doing . . . getting better, or dying tomorrow. So, always the night before I get depressed and worried about what's going to happen with my blood test. And I wind up not able to sleep and get maybe an hour of dream time before I gotta get up, dress and head for the 8:00 a.m. appointment. So, after the test and going back to get a transfusion at 2:00 p.m., when I get home . . . so tired! And yet I can't sleep. Just wait around and what for my body to just fall into unconsciousness at its own speed. Pic is of a chemo cat nap. First and only time they gave me a bed to lay down in during a blood transfusion session.