Cancer.

Today, I was helping at a friend’s cake sale. Smiling, dispensing cake, and trying not to be jealous of someone’s ability to play Einaudi on the piano at the back of the Church hall. This weekend has been the weekend to raise funds for Macmillian, the UK’s cancer support charity – and said friend knows someone whose been going though chemo. Thankfully, we have the NHS, so people don’t get totally bankrupted by uncontrolled cell growth, but it still sucks. Yesterday, coming home from school, there was a cake sale on the platform, and I ignored nearly everything my mother ever taught me by buying a chocolate brownie from a stranger to eat on the train home. It was good cake. 

This evening, I watched My Sister’s Keeper with (you guessed it) my little sister. For a long time, it was my favourite film. Now, that title would go to Third Star, which is still about someone with cancer. And for me to come this far in writing about cancer and failing to attempt to reflect on the collective nature of the human conciousness (what this post was going to be about) without mentioning The Fault in Our Stars seems almost shameful. Read it. Watch it. You will cry. I’ve kind of forgotten what I was going to write next, so I might end this confusion here.

Have a good week, and DFTBA

– Vicki

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