What do people do if they have blank amount time to live? I’d throw all cautions to the wind, maybe even get yolo tattooed on my wrist (jk) and let that be my mantra for the time I have left….
If money was no object and health no issue, I’d be in California. I’ve always wanted to go there. I have friends in Hollywood, Long Beach and San Francisco that I would love to see and make black out memories with them one last time, one last time before my body and mind burns out.
To be honest, it totally sucks thinking about these things - girls my age are out getting careers, and buying cars and getting their nails done in really awful designs, their going out to dinner with their friends in their newest dress and sitting at the restaurant gazing at everyone through faux lashes wondering when someone will come talk to their group. Although that sounds totally lame and toxic and desperate, I’d kill for that just for the fact those stupid sluts don’t have a worry in the world.
I don’t want to seem like I’m hating on people, but I am a little and with every good reason. Fighting cancer since March 2011 has not been a walk in the park. It’s been a struggle. And now, my walk is over because my treatments aren’t working anymore. And my doctors can’t help anymore. And that’s when reality hits you ten times harder in the face than it did when you were first diagnosed. And you realize how shitty the world is with all the bullshit floating on the airwaves and in social media, so that soothes the soul a little in knowing that worst things are happening out there. I’m just a fucking number. An ant. I mean nothing. I am important to no one in the larger picture.
But I am so important to those that are close to me. How am I supposed to leave them? How cruel is this world after all? And then I realize it’s not the world, but the the disease that’s cruel. So now all I can do is try to live a little every day until there’s no more breaths left in my cancer tainted lungs.
Last Wednesday, my oncologist told me he was no longer going to give me chemotherapy because my tumors were progressing too fast.
My goal is to make it to my 27th birthday.
I don’t feel like dying yet.
Arthur Chaplin (1869 - 1935) - Roses in a vase
Miller and Nin
Jung Lee, Why #2, 2010