going from hamburger joint to mental pivot point. thinking of the cow that gave its life and how great it tastes. thumbing through images of mass migrations of war torn populations. being bombed. being starved out. being shaken to their core. the Earth opening up and shaking them apart. two sides of a fault line. i take fault in lies by design. fault in how to define, truth. empathy. history.
i tell my doctor i can’t remember much anymore. he tells me to get a journal and write it all down as such. times and places. facts about faces. who helped us when we needed it most. who are our friends and families, lost connections. i lost the directions. i’m taking so many drugs to survive. i wonder how and why. how did i get so lucky to live and eat like this when on the other side of the world, other side of this town, other side of the tracks, people die so quickly. don’t get medical care victories. don’t get to hear the word remission. get shot at and bombed. needing medicine and surgery. losing their families and towns. losing everything. i’ve lost nothing but memories.
memories of them growing up. memories of who did what. who to be thankful to. the doctor says i’ve lost my short-term and long-term connection. i try and connect them. i look for breadcrumb trails to find my way back. i don’t remember us in the photos anymore. i look hard but i’m disappearing more and more. i survived brain radiation for more time to say i love you.