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Make Haste to Your Funeral

Updated: Sep 18, 2022


Diagnosed Mortal #20


This is the last hurrah as I end this series. I reflect upon my experience writing these essays and think aloud about the things I think I will miss in being without a body.





So it ends.... Of course I made it through the surgery in flying colors. All mended thanks to the miracle of modern medicine. I was mystified about the things that rose up in me and it makes more sense to me now how I would be examining those things in a much deeper manner since writing the book. Thank you for going the distance with me weaving in my pre book writing journey into my post memoir life. I feel filled in and patched up across time.


This exercise has helped me feel a bit more natural about the recording thing. I might be ready to do an audio book of Different Ways now. It probably won't be like a regular audio book, though. It will only be available on this website, for instance, blogcast by blogcast and a person can sign up for notifications of postings via email. I doubt I will have a professional audio book done, either. I can't think of one reason why.


My musical choice: When I first began these blogcasts, I was asked by my elderly neighbor to explain why I used the particular song that I did. She is not familiar with the kinds of music that I would choose and found the song "Dialogue Box" confusing as a choice. So I added some small explanation about the music to each post following in this series. I don't think it helps my neighbor very much but it is good for me, as it turns out, to explain these things. It helps me to externalize what I'm thinking about around these songs in how I hear them. So much of how I experience music has been an internal process that I hadn't even realized how rich it is until I wrote it out. At least it is for me.


So, Wreck of the Hesperus...Procol Harum. I'm a bit of a drama queen. Okay?...I admit it. Can you believe how this song begins *BOOM* and how it roils into a crescendo like a vengeful sea? Gah! So sexy!


"...Burnt by fire, blind in sight, lost in ire ..."


Mic drop.




...and, by the way, we are never, ever alone unless we choose to be.

Helping Hands by Emile Renouf


As always....Thanks for playing along.



This Blogpost explains my motivation and intention for this series of 20 essays called ~Diagnosed Mortal ~


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