I truly am Jewish. When you have a bad day you order Chinese food. That’s just what you do.

I ordered for one

Steve is running. He never stops running. Doing this. Doing that. He’s doing it for us, but it’s also how he copes. He runs. So we don’t order together. We order by ourselves.

I ordered a feast. Three entrees and cold sesame noodles. I ate the whole thing. I ate until it hurt. I ate and ate. I wanted to fill up. It’s just been a lot. A lot of bad news. We are back in the hospital. He has an infection. This was “expected” but here we are again for the next 4-5 days. He’s doing well. He is always doing well. He is SO STRONG. SO STRONG. Doctors can’t get over him. He doesn’t complain and when you are down…he will tell YOU a joke. He is amazing.

But back to Chinese food. Back to food coma. The MSG kind.

I went to get the fortune cookies. Only one. Of course, my luck, only one!! Don’t they always throw in one for every entree? Is this some Brooklyn “green thing?”

I want to give it to Jacob, but Benno will flip. No need to start that battle up so I opened it for myself. They will never know. They are busy watching TV.

It was for me.

“If you have knowledge, let others light their candles by it.”

Yes, it was for me. 

I was debating publishing anything else. I actually was debating writing at all, but everything tells me not to. 

“If you have knowledge, let others light their candles by it.”

I will keep writing

 and I will publish. 

I have knowledge. You may want to hear it. You may NEED to hear it as you walk 5 steps behind me.

I have kept most of it to myself as it comes as “signs.” Sometimes LITERAL signs as if someone is trying to HIT me over the head with them. I guess someone up there thinks I’m pretty dense. The signs are in multiple modalities smell, tastes, visual, etc. The sign of a good teacher. Just checking over there for understanding? Do you need to see it another way? So I’m getting HIT in the head with signs. Some crazy coincidences that I can’t deny.

I guess you can never walk away from science. It’s everywhere. My life is my new science. I write down all observations. Study them. Read them back to myself over and over.  And guess what?! There is a pattern. There is one. There is one. And it’s beautiful and it is strong. And it has a purpose. And it has the happiest of endings. Jacob, my Jacob will be okay. He will give so much to this world. 

I hold back sharing as I worry about you, the other time people. The people on schedules. 

Steve tells me that “I’m not helping myself.” That my blog is “manic” and will hurt my business. He says this to be helpful. He says this to be kind. He says “understandably so. You are going through hell,” but I can’t listen to him. I can’t stand it and when he talks about this I can’t stand him. I can’t hear him say those things, because HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND.

He lives in equations and systems and now “protocols” (that’s hospital speak for chemo treatment). He sadly sees manic as the enemy, the unknown, the fringe.

And he is right.

It is.

It is ALL of those things. 

But that’s where I stand and I don’t think I stand alone. And I am definitely NOT the first.

AND please tell me what is WRONG with Manic? 

What’s wrong with urgency? What’s wrong with direction? What’s wrong with feeling? AND what’s wrong with trying to do good with it?

I would call Thomas Edison manic. Hell, he’s a maniac! Look at what he devoted his life too. People laughed at him, people gave up on him, but he kept plugging away. When you read about him, people claim he felt a responsibility to the world. He wanted to fill the void left by others. Literally, the dark void. He made sacrifices after sacrifices and felt overwhelmed more often than not…but he brought light.

And he is just the beginning…

Einstein, Picasso, Van Gogh, JImmy Hendriks, I could go on and on.

Freaking Aristotle! I mean Da Vinci! I mean both!

They were maniacs for SURE. Da Vinci makes me look sane with all his writings and drawings.

And I can think of so many living breathing maniacs. Most of my friends are maniacs in their own ways. It comes in different forms, but yes, they are maniacs. 

And they sacrifice. 

So fuck you. Fuck you. 

I’m a fucking maniac. 

Ohhh…so scary. 

BOO!

And meet the newest breed. 

I dare any of you to find more of a maniac than a mother fighter for her child’s life?! I dare you. I’ve read about these women. TRY US.

JUST TRY US we will make you bleed. We will make you cry. We will. 

And I made a pact. I made a pact with God. 

I will continue to sacrifice. I will continue to make the world better. I will continue to do good. I will continue to fight and the list is just getting longer. Once I finish with higher education, I’m going after cancer. I’m going after not just the disease of neuroblastoma as I feel confident we can cure that, I’m going after the process. I’m going after how it rips families apart. I can’t fathom how others without our resources can possibly make it through. I’m unfundable because my kid has cancer, what happens to the expendable? The person whose job is to answer a phone or drive a truck?! What happens to these people? Why when they lose the health of a a child do they also face losing their LIVES?!

So FUCK YOU WORLD.

I am the MOST investable. 

You want someone who can run through walls? 

I can run through more than walls.

 I can run through time.

WATCH ME