In a world of perpetual pain, finding stillness is the greatest achievement
Drifting in and out of sleep and denial, I imagine bringing a body into conditions of complete quietude, its only movements the autonomic responses sustaining its being alive.
Continue reading “Finding stillness”
If the past is memory and the future fantasy then the fleeting nothing of the present is all there is
I have been dreading the writing of this post, putting it off and vacillating, finding other things to do, or nothing, in order not to engage with what must be written, lest my story be left hanging in the air. I suspect too it will the post my readers will have been fearing for a while and might find difficult to read.
Continue reading “The last Munro”
People often tell me I am doing very well.
Continue reading “Doing very well”
Regular readers might be interested to know what is happening in my life. Continue reading “January silence”
Chemotherapy poisons not only a body, but the life the body leads, the relationships it forms, the hopes and expectations it engenders, its entire being.
At what precise moment the last cycle of chemotherapy ends and the rest of my life begins is still not clear. Continue reading “Cycle six and the rest of my life”
Less than two weeks into the fifth cycle I felt healthy again, prepared to be infused for the last time with poison, in fact I wanted to get it over with, to bring forward my appointment a week.
Continue reading “Cycle five and the light at the end of the tunnel”
At bottom, the problem of political decision-making only redoubles and displaces to a collective scale what is already an illusion in the individual: the belief that our actions, our thoughts, our gestures, our words, and our behaviours result from decisions emanating from a central, conscious, and sovereign entity – the Self.
Being on the left or on the right is to choose among one of the countless ways afforded to humans to be imbeciles.
This is the big lie, and the great disaster of politics: to place politics on one side and life on the other, on one side what is said but isn’t real and on the other what is lived but can no longer be said. […] Hell is really the place where all speech is rendered meaningless.
What is revealed in every political eruption is the irreducible human plurality, the unsinkable heterogeneity of ways of being and doing – the impossibility of the slightest totalization.
The Invisible Committee, Now, Semiotext(e), 2017
Continue reading “Cycle four and some politics”
It is a little more than three years since I started writing this blog.
Continue reading “Living with cancer #3”