Support for families dealing with cancer and other serious illnesses (Part II)

feralsurfer72 said:Is it even possible to have pancreatic cancer and liver cirrhosis at the same time?

An immortal song.
I’ve always found that there’s a certain quiet gravity to the way M. Antić approaches his craft, much like watching a seasoned conductor lead an orchestra through a particularly complex movement—nothing is wasted, yet everything feels profoundly intentional. It reminds me of those slow Sunday mornings in Chicago when the fog rolls off the lake, blurring the edges of the skyline until you're left with nothing but the essential shapes of the city.

If you ever get word that I’ve passed on, just know I died exactly how I lived—unannounced and likely mid-sentence.
I’ve already given you my life story, dear.
Perhaps you’ll find yourself in that same position one day.
Suddenly, things have started to turn gray.

Everything feels like a heavy, sweeping fog clinging to my eyelashes.
There’s a faint, ashen trace lingering on my lip.
Have you ever truly sat back and given it some thought?
What does it actually mean to truly live?

It feels like snow melting in a warm palm—gone before you can even grasp the sensation.
It’s as if you grew up entirely on the open plains.
Don't worry...
Is there really anything to worry about?
It’s heavy, isn't it? Truly heartbreaking.
Is there any room for sorrow here?

Wandering through the wreckage of one's own imagination.
Climb toward your youth with everything you've got.
She’ll be waiting for you right there.
Beautiful, yet deceptively clever.

And so it lives!
It’s absolutely alive!
Don't spend your days nibbling away at life like a mouse.
He’s just blowing hot air.
Let the wind and the birds pass you by.

After all, even an eternity feels like a mere blink of an eye.

All of a sudden, there's a smile on everyone's face.
I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror today, and I must say, the reflection was quite unexpected.
I've ended up with a face that looks like it was assembled from spare parts.

Out of nowhere: in certain corners.
Sometimes, you just need to let a few tears fall.

Trouble has a way of creeping up on you, right at your fingertips.
The years have a way of turning everything gray.

Suddenly, the whole world just shifts beneath your feet while you're mid-stride.
It seems to be getting narrower by the day.
And even the smiles seem to be growing a little more quiet lately.
And quieter, too.
And somewhat distorted, if I'm being honest.

And he’s truly living, quite remarkably so!

That’s exactly how I lived my life for a long time.
It’s been half a century, just like that.
I’ve spent some time traversing the centuries.

I’ll be the first to admit it: I can be a bit of a scatterbrain.
At times, quite the opposite.
And I never could quite find my footing, either.
I felt as though I were walking forever.
He went...

It’s essentially a matter of moving everything out from the front of your aorta.
The expiration date on this thing feels like nothing more than a polite suggestion rather than an actual rule.
And then you went and ruined everything.
What strange little wonders we find ourselves stumbling upon.

And don't you ever dare go imagining what life could be.
It feels like a frightened goodbye.
It feels less like an event and more like a permanent fixture, almost as if we’re living in a perpetual state of welcome.
It feels like a perpetual state of waking up, an endless cycle of just barely surfacing.

2.

And now, let’s finally get serious.
Take a moment to truly contemplate the weight of existence—what it actually means to live, and eventually, what it means to die.
And where, exactly, does a man vanish to?

I wonder what on earth he’s doing that keeps him perpetually distracted like this.

I wouldn't advise making any trips to the cemetery.
You just aren't going to get it.
Cemeteries are easily the most macabre part of any local carnival.
It’s a rather melancholy theater, isn't it?

Playing around with restlessness.
And my own shapelessness, too.
Don't you find yourself feeling that pull sometimes?
Maybe just take a little detour through the back alleys.
Are we truly ascending to new heights of intellect, or just rearranging the furniture in our own delusions?
In the near future?

I'll find a time to walk you through that later on.
If our paths happen to cross out there.

You know exactly what I'm going to do to you:
I might just have to break your toy for you.
What exactly is the name of that pain?
If you actually have the nerve to try.

I'm telling you the truth.
I'm just spinning a yarn here.
What truly matters, at its core, is simply what must be there.
You just haven't caught him in the act yet.
Well, you didn't exactly go looking for it.

Just remember: reality is always more real than anything else.
If you start adding a touch of the surreal to her persona, she becomes something else entirely.

You’ll know it’s me when I stop talking.
The eternal ones simply refuse to engage in conversation.

To outmaneuver wisdom itself...
I’ve always found that if you want to truly dismantle the art of listening, you simply have to master the skill of waiting for your turn to speak instead of actually hearing what's being said.

Grand conclusions.
They practically open themselves up.

After countless births, everything seems to change.
And then there are those quiet, trivial little deaths that just slip by unnoticed.
Once you finally come to terms with it.
Everything you just said was spot on.

One single life doesn't define everything.

Honestly, you should just come find me.
May I bask in your radiance for a moment?
I simply distill everything into a single thought.

And even the furthest reaches of our future.
She’s got a future ahead of her, clearly.
She honestly seems to be living in her own little world, convinced of her own greatness.
It is our own vote that shapes the future we will eventually inhabit.

And besides, there’s no such thing as an empty universe.

What we fail to realize, quite simply, is...
It isn't a matter of nonexistence, really.
The mere fact that the world continues to spin without us is quite a sobering thought.

3.

If you ever get word that I’ve passed away, just know...
I can't help but wonder what exactly this is all going to turn into.

Thousands upon thousands of vibrant, multicolored fish drifting through the water.
I can feel my eyelid twitching incessantly.
And eventually, the earth will claim me as its own.
Even the weeds will eventually swallow me whole.

And as for me, I’ll be busy tending to my own affairs during that interval.
To soar somewhere high above it all.
Just remember: there are no borders.
Let's just stick to discussing the current borders for now.

I’ll be sailing right above you as the dawn breaks.
The wind was slicing through the air, smooth and slick as a sheet of silk.
I shall broaden your horizons.
I suppose one could say that even a simple gesture like this carries its own quiet weight. It’s a polite nod to the passage of time, much like how I always make sure to tip my barista in Seattle before the morning rush truly begins.
And the visions of what lies ahead.
With the grace of invisible wings.

And like a silent pendulum, swinging without a sound.
Lost in a beautiful sort of limbo.
I suppose I shall have to speak for myself.
It’s much like that legendary championship belt everyone obsesses over.

Space is merely the velocity of the mind.
It’s like watching someone slowly unravel their own soul, piece by piece.
I’m essentially hovering in place, yet somehow, I’ll still get where I need to be.
I find myself drifting through the currents of time, lost to the passing years.

I think I’ll take a momentary reprieve from the side quests for a while.
Like a sprawling galaxy of stars drifting through the void.
Which ones have fused through pulsing?
I honestly have no idea what they’re playing at over there.

I think I’ll take a momentary reprieve from the side issues.
It’s much like those vast, endless stretches of old-growth forest you see out in the Pacific Northwest—limitless and overwhelming all at once.
What exactly are we talking about when we say things have "fused branches"? It’s one of those phrases that sounds poetic until you realize how messy the reality can actually be.
into warm embraces.

I shall find rest from the trivialities of this life,
much like those great birds,
whose wings have fused together,
encompassing the entire American sky.

I will take my rest from the secondary things,
like a profound love,
that finds its way to lips
long before the souls have even met.

Do you truly believe that my hand,
my knee,
or my head,
could ever dissolve into mere clay,
the root of a birch tree,
or simple grass?

Or that some tiny little secret,
or a fleeting, trembling fear,
might transform tomorrow into
silence,
darkness,
and dust?

You see, I am quite literally made of starlight.
I am composed entirely of light.

There is nothing within me that will
flicker out or fade away.

I will simply,
as if by chance,
on some random morning,
return to my own distant sun,
with eyes of pure gold.

I am punished for everything I think,
let alone everything I do;
I am suspected of being too tender,
and branded guilty
for refusing to quench love with hatred—instead, I feed it with new, greater love—
and refusing to extinguish life with death,
choosing instead to live in an entirely different way.

The final edges of infinity
are merely the beginning of something even more boundless.

Those who endure longer than the eternal
have no use for shallow knowledge.

Never waste your energy
asking how to survive,
but rather ask how to avoid dying
after all the ways one has already died.

4.

If word reaches you that I am gone,
do not fret. In every passing century,
someone accidentally mistakes me
for someone old and weary.

There is nowhere that holds as many people
as the depths of a single human soul.

There is nothing quite as different
as the things we consider the same.

If you search through the vast spaces,
you will find me unearthed from the wind.
I am in the water.
In the stones.
In every twilight and every dawn.

To be multifaceted as a human
does not mean to be fragmented.

I am shared with everything,
yet I am never torn apart.

And all these miraculous states,
these constant renewals of my being,
are nothing more than a vortex—
singular,
persistent,
and long.

Do you know what prophecies actually are?
They are merely the molds of past events,
the breathless repetition
of the same thing spinning in circles.

So why should we say goodbye?
What is there to regret?
If they tell you I have died,
you know better—I don't know how to do that.

Love is the only air
I have ever breathed.
And a smile is the only language
I understand in this world.

I only stopped by this earth
to give you a little wink.
To leave behind something behind me,
like a shimmering, fleeting trail.

Please, don't be sad.

I care so deeply
about remaining within you,
as something silly,
and strangely dear.

On nights when you gaze up at the sky,
give me a wink in return.

Let that be our little secret.

Despite the gray, heavy days,
whenever you see a comet
glow with a golden hue,
remember: that is still me,
flying and living wildly.