|This is no longer necessary, but it is, you know.|
Jodi asked me recently what it was that I was going to do with all these little bits where I write. Cynthia did too. And days ago, as Corey and I are having a quick text session, it made me think that in the process of streamlining my verbal avalanche, I was making some things even more complicated. Which, really brought me back here.
Over two years ago, you might recall, when it was the end of the world, I thought I'd be able to write here to chart how my life would twist and turn its way through my HIV infection. Now that I'm a little less of a pussy and probably (hopefully) a little smarter, I've come to the conclusion that after the 'initial shock,' what else is really going to change; answer is nothing. Really.
Sometimes, whether during one of my sad moments or not, I do think very much about my little virus. But more often than not, I don't. I'm not sure what that means long-term, but what it means to me rightnowthisverysecond isn't very much: it's just another piece of me the same way my tattoos and hair loss are. Yeah, there's some maintenance, but as the days of 2009 have moved, I've seen that too has been integrated so fully into my life, there's no need to make this division.
Alright: I don't know who reads this (I mean, I do know I've one avid reader(!)), but if there was something you took from my little bits of brain meat, it's not ending but moving elsewhere. This is my penultimate post here. There'll be another one in a few days with a new link. I don't know, sometimes I feel like I am writing in public, for everyone to see and...I'm not really sure what.
"Now, how many times must you prove you're an angel?
How many more demons do you have to strangle?
How much longer must you remain in this dream
Before I finally figure out if you're insane or a genius?"
|As I type, I can feel it, somewhere out in the edge of my awareness: yet another pill taking hold.|
Little bits of medical procedures done this morning have left me with a couple of questions, a few laughs (really!), lots of pain, drugs, and the most uncomfortable blog writing position ever!
All tomfoolery aside, Corey and Golden and my older brother all talked with me at various points in the day, and for varying reasons, I'm so glad I did. I've decided I do not ask the sufficient questions, nor the most pertinent. Why this is I'm not quite sure, probably my ever-present wannabe punk rock laissez-faire bullshit worry about it later attitude. But all that, how I've managed to make it to thirty-two relatively undamaged, tends to be how I treat even the most important aspects of my life. To wit: all of this.
Anyway: I'm fine, doing well. A quick visit before going back to work, before my winter doctor's appointment.
And a little part of me is asking, "Bring whatever's next on!"
|Tomorrow at this time I should be home and hopefully a little doped up. Minor surgery, you see. Told Corey about the two pain meds I'm prescribed and based on that, I'm going with the idea that the next few days are going to be uncomfortable. Geez. Woke up today thinking it's Friday and nervous! Wow. I mean, I'm not a dumb person, I don't think, and the very idea of anything medical unnerves me. Silly, I know.|
Off work for a few days and recovery.
But as it works out, I'm having a moment of, "Why me?"