Pot Hole

So the weekend before chemo I decided was the last change I had to dabble in some debauchery. So the Saturday night was spent drinking with my friend and then proceeding to a punk gig at the art house.

The next day I woke at seven thirty to get ready to go to the Mornington peninsula in pete's van. Half an hour into the trip we decided that the morning needed the assistance of some hash cake to fully allow the beach and its accompanying serenity to be fully appreciated. Taking a sizable amount of hash cake I began to uncoil and then after an hour to rapidly recoil. I felt the intensity of being stoned continue to expand exponentially and I began to gain continual insights to thought patterns of dark and mysterious origins. A bewildering sense of being confused, paranoid and completely unable to centre myself or my mind. I was entering a pot hole......

I was dredging my soul of the last month of muck. Orbiting around my circus mind was images and sensations of the medical interventions and emotional roller coster I had been on, or should I say was on. The pot like an authoritative old biddy was barking in an accusatory tone of the harsh new found reality of being a cancer patient and with it all the poisonous symptoms and troubles I may face. The lonely road of 'suffering' of being inflicted with a malignancy that was going to take tonnes of poison to slowly evict itself from my body. The voice was cyclic, it continued to snatch away any normal thought trajectories I may have begun to initiate and taint and tarnish it with these troubling images of the unknown.

I sat on the beach as my friends surfed and giggled at my lack of mental clarity and or articulation. They fed me kiwi fruit and coffee in attempt to invoke some kind of alertness of even vague presence.

I eventually projectile vomited into the sand.

I stared at the vomit being absorbed and drunk up by the sand and wished that my entire being could be held so completely. My mind and body continued to be thrashed and dunked by the pot hole until slowly its grip began to loosen, dappled sunlight of reality was piercing my clouded state.

Thank god for reality, we spent so much time trying to escape it. But in times when it is missing in action it can be the only thing you cling for.

The sunset was ushered in with a few beers and fish and chips on the deck.

Slowly the pot hole began to fade