сейчас лежу в онкоцентре, вчера мне вырезали васкуляризированное на широком основании образование «по типу цветной капусты», я лежал под спинальной анестезией и завороженно смотрел на мониторе как сияет внутри меня электрическая петля, кромсающая опухоль. и на чудовищных отходах мне показалось отличной идеей сегодня прочитать the cancer journals одри лорди.

оглушительная книжка боли грусти и ярости, ревью не будет, будет цитата:

In becoming forcibly and essentially aware of my mortality, and of what I wished and wanted for my life, however short it might be, priorities and omissions became strongly etched in a merciless light, and what I most regretted were my silences. Of what had I ever been afraid? To question or to speak as I believed could have meant pain, or death. But we all hurt in so many different ways, all the time, and pain will either change, or end. Death, on the other hand, is the final silence. And that might be coming quickly, now, without regard for whether I had ever spoken what needed to be said, or had only betrayed myself into small silences, while I planned someday to speak, or waited for someone else’s words. And I began to recognize a source of power within myself that comes from the knowledge that while it is most desirable not to be afraid, learning to put fear into a perspective gave me great strength.

I was going to die, if not sooner then later, whether or not I had ever spoken myself. My silences had not protected me. Your silence will not protect you.