Workout Log 15 July 2012

30 minutes free dance. Yesterday’s trip to Shenzen for an audition was a real slog…my fault for I wanted to enter by way of Lo Huo which is on the eastern side and had to take the Shenzen Metro across town for an hour. I wanted to enter by way of Lo Huo since I prefer first class East Rail (formerly Kowloon Canton Railway) seating. West Rail to the Futian port might have been quicker, but only marginally and its hard metal seats are uncomfortable on the ass.

What seemed exciting, exotic when I was only 54 is now rather tiresome but that’s the way of it. I did well in the audition whose directors claimed was for a feature film. You can never be sure what’s on the level. When it is, it is, when it isn’t, it is not. But I connect to scripts fast and deliver precisely and this has gotten me some jobs in the absence of much experience.

Shenzen is a vast sprawl, Jersey to Hong Kong’s Manhattan. But the very idea that one “should” live in Jersey or Shenzen because it befits one’s station has always been a non-starter with me. Which is a real tragedy, an American Tragedy straight out of Dreiser transplanted to a place where ethnic facts are different but social reality the same.

I have to rebuild self-confidence somewhat lessened by the limitations of the sciatica and this involves hauling ass, but without this overly heavy Mac laptop. I plan to replace it soon with the Mac Air, which is what I should have gotten in the first place.

When I awake I feel the tumor which first appeared as swollen lymph nodes on my shoulder and wonder, is it diminishing? It is hard to say. The left node seems almost flat and the right node seems smaller although it is harder to the touch. I keep up with my Fluta-cell medication with few apparent side effects, although it might be responsible for my overall leaner build and querulous impatience with crowds. I try to avoid negative thoughts and anger without total success.

I keep on thinking it will steal away, this cancer, as have all other illnesses stolen away ever since I started running in 1981, but this thought is followed by the next, which is if it does what is the purpose of the life remaining? You could live forever if you only had a purpose and surely that’s not these trivial comforts for they are but Anodynes to a deeper pain.

New vistas filled me with joy before this Thing but now they make me tired for I have to cross them, on foot. I’m reading an excellent book by Tim Hardy, The Reluctant Imperialist, about what it was like to be working class and of a miner’s family yet rise within the rapidly collapsing British Empire in various offices in Malaya, Sarawak, East Africa, Fiji and Hong Kong. Great stuff, but right now it makes me tired to think of a vista I must cross.

It’s one thing to be an expatriate when you’re full of beans, quite another when your foot doesn’t quite work as it used to. But there it is, and simple things such as a good night’s sleep work wonders.

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