It's been like this for quite a few years now. I always find it hard to live in a moment and the experience of many years, all these comings and goings, keeps telling me that it's going to go by very quickly, it sounds like a lot, 7 weeks, 6 weeks, even 5 weeks. But the damn experience keeps whispering in my ear, it's nothing, before you know it you'll have hours left, then minutes, then nothing. That nothing is such an immensely painful feeling that it overpowers other memories. It overpowers them even before they are made. Is this what they call trauma?
So every memory comes laced with shadows, with the lingering smell and taste of something already gone, even if it's still happening, it's still being made. This year is hard. The shadows are spreading, they weight the joy of moments down, they got help from the beast that holds time and fate and joy in its ugly paw. Suddenly, there are time limits so much tighter than before, moments became counted, doled out slowly to us while we wait to see the empty bottom. The beast has a name and that's why it's just so real. You cannot ignore something that has a name. You cannot escape something that sits deep within and cannot be removed even if you poison your body and make it feeble, hollow, unable to serve your regular and taken for granted purposes. Suddenly, there is an expiration date on everything. You're trying to grab things quickly by handfuls, you're trying to accumulate as many moments as you can... but they are so heavy, laden with sorrow-to-come, tears-to flow, regrets-to-have, emptiness-to-feel that you just cannot hold them. The cancer beast has already sucked so much joy from all these moments that are still happening it's maddening. And you fight it and you try but happiness feels expired already.
