About

“There are these two worlds vying for my attention at all times. In one of them this diagnosis has metastasized to the brain and I am no longer able to care for my children. The bank takes over the house and I become an albatross in hands not fully formed. . . In the other world, noise shuts down for a very split second and the smallest fragment of light becomes a pathway to immortality. Color is no longer a placeholder and language no longer a tool. . . You can read this as small moments of clarity or large chunks of confusion. Either way, they mix with the noise and become gaps I long to …