The Last Summer

My time is becoming narrower and darker. The end is near.

^{I’d like to acknowledge and congratulate Stephanie Nolen from The New York Times, a 2026 Pulitzer Prize Finalist in International Reporting, as well as Luc Rinaldi, who won a National Magazine Award for the piece he wrote about me in Maclean’s, and my fight for MAID MI-SUMC. I’ve been terribly lucky with the people who’ve covered me, and I couldn’t be more proud, or grateful for them.}

^{If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: I don’t fuck with hacks.}

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On Wax. Listen to me read this to you.

Who among us doesn’t feel every day is a slow depletion of life itself? What fun! I can’t explain how I drag myself across the weeks of the calendar. I just do it. Somehow, some people see my survival as an argument against me. If I’m this sick, I must either die immediately or my suffering isn’t real. I try to tune-out the noise, but now… there are court dates. It’s happening as I write. I just need to make it across to those marked dates next month. It’s draining me of everything.

I’d like to be clear about certain things before I go.