I don’t have time to
filter these thoughts, so here they
are unedited.
We all said it was
best not to Google. So of
course we all Googled.
I felt nostalgic
scrolling through wifi networks
I’d connected to.
And then I realised
that googling my symptoms was
a form of self-harm.
Impossible things
have been said this week, things like
‘prepare for cancer’.
Drips of bad news and
tears caused a deluge that swept
me away from home.
The rhetoric changed
from it will all be okay
to we will fight this.
All I think is that
I don’t want to be a bench –
not yet anyway.
I go through my day
dropping bombshells on people
wherever I go.
My friends send flowers
as I grieve the loss of life
as it’s always been.
Hello 3am.
It’s me again, pondering
imponderables.
Despite my tumour
I am annoyed I left my
cake at a friend’s house.
Every life contains
suffering. It’s only the
brand that’s personal.
Since you’re going to
encounter it, it’s about
what you do with it.
Mum said I should write
of being lost in garlic
woods while my life stinks.
Instead I spend time
thinking about how I tend
to overthink things.
The surprising thing
is how surprised we are when
people are themselves.
And how we’re still so
precious about how to fill
up a dishwasher.
The big problem with
silver linings is that they
come attached to clouds.
Could there really still
be beautiful things in these
dark, desperate days?
Laura writes... 