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Across the Cancer and Into The Gym

January 18, 2017

Finished reading Heminway’s “Across The River and Into the Trees,” Enjoyed some stretches from the master, however, I have a thing about characters who take their lives. Fatalism seems to only attract people who have never had to fight for their life–and I mean where if they don’t do anything, they will die. I mean the main character has war issues and he’s only 51and in love with a 19-year old (I mean if he really wanted to truly kill himselgf he would have married her at the end of the book.) But I guess, as I was struggling to regain my strength by working out at the gym today, I was wondering why I found the spirit to fight, when it’s so hard to fight, and I thought, cancer had taken me down, had its malignant knees on my chest, and was breathing its foul decaying aroma of dead meat in my face, and it had one of my shoulders pinned and the other one 1/16th of an inch from the final take down, and all I could think of was anything that was doing this to me wasn’t going to get away with it–and I would kill it first.

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