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Told one of the ER nurses how Nattokinase got mom off Xarelto & Eliquis, both of whose side effects were killing her. After 8 months of a dozen ferocious side effects including fatigue & diarrhea, her vascular surgeon saw the shape she was in & shrugged, murmuring “that’s life”, meaning of course; “that’s death”.

I imagine my stories might conceivably help some people and i do keep telling the few successes i have to hospital personnel, but i don’t like writing, it’s noisy & tedious & never sounds right & ages real badly. i always later hate what i’ve said and i hate hearing my words in my head because they’re wrong, no matter what i’ve written it’s wrong, later. Aurically garish.

This doesn’t happen with my arts, we’ll yes with the photos but not with my papers, earths or OCE. these arts are quiet & live longer. i even hate writing these words & cant believe i’ve kept a journal all these years. i hate reading those too, i hate the sound of my voice in my head and i’m not going to try turning it into a profession, what an contentious prospect.

Bad enough i have these stories i’ll want to release. People will ask me a million questions, it’ll never end but then if it does, that’s trouble too. asshole life.

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