Written in Ink
Written in Ink

With the demise of Gawker, I’ve mostly stayed away. Not on purpose. Jezebel just hasn’t interested me enough to stick around. In the meantime, I’ve been having surgeries, laying around, you know.

At this point now I have had 16 surgeries with two planned ones coming. I spent six months in he hospital. The best part was the two skin grafts and a surgery that pulled my fucking pectoral muscle up into my cheek.

I don’t feel as clever as I used to. Any “cancer wisdom,” I gained is long gone and now I’m mostly just angry. After spending 6 months in one of the hospitals my “anxiety and depression” has turned into mind fucking panic attacks at least three times a week. I am terrified of this next surgery and I’ve never felt that before. I’ve only ever had two completely successful surgeries. I’ve just hit a point where surgery means two or three surgeries to me.


Sorry for no happy news. I’m waiting for one of these next surgeries to kill me. There is no benevolent god.

Happy Wednesday.

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