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Where do we go from here?

Whatever we inherit from the fortunate
We have taken from the defeated
What they had to leave us — a symbol:
A symbol perfected in death.
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
By the purification of the motive
In the ground of our beseeching. 


We only live, only suspire
Consumed by either fire or fire.
The dove descending breaks the air
With flame of incandescent terror
Of which the tongues declare
The one discharge from sin and error.
The only hope, or else despair
Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre —
To be redeemed from fire by fire. 
Who then devised the torment? Love.
Love is the unfamiliar Name
Behind the hands that wove
The intolerable shirt of flame
Which human power cannot remove.
We only live, only suspire
Consumed by either fire or fire. 


A people without history
Is not redeemed from time, for history is a pattern
Of timeless moments.


We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
What we call the beginning is often the end
And to make an end is to make a beginning.
The end is where we start from.


T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding (1942)

That about sums it up for me at the moment, really.
Beyond that, I am working hard to dig us up out of the hole- I had to accept a few things I really didn’t want to, which should help. (Kurt is going back to Wal Mart, which…insert some shit about greater good, necessary evil, etc that I can’t quite convince myself of right no, but I’m really trying.)

I managed to get the prednisone I needed- something I’ve been babbling about, because, well, steroids. However- oh my god, for the first time in over a month I am not in pain. I can move. Maybe I am making a giant ass of myself- but I don’t care. You don’t understand what it’s like, and I am glad you don’t. (Some of you do, and I am sorry.) This was sort of a desperate thing; after a totally pointless admittance to the hospital and all that- I have seeds to start, dirt to mess with, a slew of work projects and other things. I had to do whatever it took so I could quite literally get back up on my feet. And I am. And it…I keep bawling. This was the worst flare up I’ve ever had. All I could think was “My god, what if this is where it is? What if this is progression? What if this is the flare that stays?” People with MS well understand that fear: the flare that stays. No matter how well you do, it nibbles that corner of your brain and it’s a horrifying thought.

It will also start taking giant bites, lie to you and tell you that everything in your life is overwhelming, everything in your life is awful, and it’s only going to get worse. Fighting that is often times harder than fighting the pain disorder or whatever. But I don’t intend to die without my boots on, so, fuck it. Onward and upward.

I am merging both pages into this one blog because honestly- I have to streamline quite a bit in order to better manage time and other stuff. HOPEFULLY I remember to tag relevantly.

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