cancer is a word with 6 letters, not a sentence.
plenty of people live through it every year, more survive it than die from it. yet when i tell people i have it ,why do they look at me like i have a death sentence?
more annoyingly, when i try and explain that it is infact very cureable, why do i hear them talk behind my back about how "brave" i am. i'm not brave at all, i'm fucking petrified, but i deal in facts and not myths.
at the same time, i belive that everything happens for a reason. maybe its my own fallacy to look for meaning within meaninglessness itself. but i truely, madly, deeply belive this is happening to me because i didn't learn from it the first two times. i need to let go of the darkness inside of myself and face up to my past. i wont let history dictate my futre, and for so long that's what i've let it do. now i believe that it isnt cancer thats killing me, its like a slow suicide. all those malignant feelings of hate, insecurity and guilt have been hidden deep inside of me for so long that they created this.
maybe my cancer is a reaction to the inner hell that ive been going through all this time. the inner hell that i simply refuse to look at objectively and release. i need to let go, of everything. dave, my childhood, every mistake that i ever made, i need to not dwell on it any more, i need to set myself free. and in doing so, i belive then i will find my cure to cancer.
i dont have cancer. in a way i am cancer. i need to cure me, not a collection of cells.
