8/16/26: when i was happy

8/16/26

I was deleting old emails today and found some photos of me when I was happy. I really enjoyed looking at old photos of me when I was traveling and jubilant and in love. It's a million miles away from this moment right now where cancer is destroying everything, and I want it back so badly. I don't want this weight of illness and looming death anymore. It's too much to carry and I don't know how I'm doing it. I don't know how my mom is doing it. I want her hair to grow back. I want her right leg to work again that the cancer in her brain turned useless. I want her to eat enough food and be strong enough to beat this. I want her to be herself again. I can hardly remember her not sick. Right now it feels like we need a fucking miracle for her to make it out of this healthy and alive. 

The photo of me posing with a giant, naked baby statue is in Prague. This one is in Iceland on a hike toward a river hot spring. I'm carefree and as happy as a clam, the wind whipping my hair around: 

All these photos of me are reminders of life when everyday I'm trapped in death. I like looking at photos that take me away from all of this for a split second. Things have gotten so bad, especially lately, and I think it's easy for me to forget how good life can feel; how wide-open and exhilarating and bursting at the seams with possibilities.