Lately I’ve been brooding about the fact that I lost that special sense of being alive I experienced once I began to believe that I would survive my cancer. I don’t want to take life for granted, yet I do. I have this feeling that I should be embracing life, living large. Yet, I spend my weekends sitting here, listening to my favorite music, feeling gentle breezes blow in the window as they cause the palm trees out back to gracefully sway too and fro. And, of course, I’m quite often stoned.
Instead of embracing life, I just sit here and enjoy the warm peace in being alone and doing as I please. Ah, the freedom to sit and do nothing, if only I could turn off those voices of my parents that are still in my head and telling me to GET UP AND DO SOMETHING!!! One would think that after reaching 75 I could finally relax without feeling guilty about it.
