Truth.

So, I haven't told a lot of people, but the real reason that I'm in Michigan right now is because my mother is battling breast cancer.

As a whole, it's a scary proposition because there is no cure, and ultimately it could claim her life. What is the scariest idea is the cloud of unknown that hangs over the word itself. Cancer is such an intangible. It's almost an emotion like state. It looms. Anyone can die, any day for whatever reason, but cancer can claim its victims or let the survive. Sometimes it comes back with a vengence. Sometimes it strikes and then goes away forever. It's something my mother will have to guard against for the rest of her life. And it will always loom.

With that being said, my mother is in great shape. She came to the airport to pick me up yesterday and she's exactly as I remember her. A little tired and worn, a little thinner, but still my mother. Her attitude is amazing, but I really didn't expect anything less. The biggest change is the lack of hair. She's into her second week of chemotherapy sessions, and they will last until the middle of October. An e-mail from her last week said that Annie Lennox has nothing on her, and it's true... Sinead O'Connor has nothing on her either. She's dealing with it quite well though... lots of hats. She was worried she would go running for a wig, but I don't see my mother as being that vain, or attached to her hair for that matter. It was probably a bigger deal for her to start losing her red to grey than it is to lose her hair to radiation.

Anyway, I'm in Michigan until Tuesday.
The only plans that I have are to go see my friend Scott in a production of "A Few Good Men," and hopefully grab a couple beers with him in the next couple of days. If you read this and are around, gimme a call... I'll meet you halfway or something.

Definitely a Liar...

...but unsure as to how thieving fits into the picture.

Nine days and I will be thirty-two years old.
That'll make eight years past doomsday, so I'm doing awfully well.

24
----
So it's not loaded stadiums or ball parks,
and we're not kids on swing-sets on the blacktop
and I thought at fifteen that I'd have it down by sixteen
and twenty four keeps breathing in my face like a mad whore.
and twenty four keeps pounding at my door.

Like a friend, you don't want to see
Oldness comes with a smile...
Oldness comes to youth who dream suicide.

(kozelek)
----

This used to resonate so deep within me.
I think we've all have had deadlines for living.
I'm finally realizing that it's never about next, but now.