Sam Alexandra Rose

Author: writersamr

  • For World Cancer Day

    For World Cancer Day today, I pitch to you that we need more knowledge, not more awareness. Sure, a picture of a candle shared on Facebook raises awareness, but I think by now we’re all aware that cancer exists, many of us painfully so. Awareness has been covered. We need knowledge – knowledge for a cure, knowledge for research, knowledge of how to support each other when it happens, knowledge of the symptoms to look out for, of how to help ourselves, of monitoring our own bodies, and looking after our mental health during and after the event.

    So instead of posting a picture of a candle on social media, how about we all post something that’s actually useful? Like a list of symptoms, or sources where people can get help and advice if they need it – or even donate to a charity. Awareness has been done already, and I feel like the whole thing is a bit like telling children there are cars in the road without telling them about the green cross code. Now is the time for knowledge, because knowledge can bring action. Post something helpful today.

  • All The Things I Am

    Sit down and let me tell you
    all the things that I am.
    I guarantee my list will not
    match up with any assumptions
    you may have made in your head 

    and it will barely match up with
    any list I could have made five years ago.

  • If My Brain Were Hairy

    I tried waxing my legs today for the first time in years.
    Then I remembered why I haven’t used wax strips in years.
    It hurts. Sure, it doesn’t hurt for long, but it’s so very
    unnecessary to put myself through it. I’ve been through
    enough physical pain in the past and probably will in the
    future, all of it relatively unavoidable. So why would I
    cause myself more pain for no real reason? I threw the
    wax strips away, but not before realising that although
    I’m so good at avoiding causing myself physical harm,
    I do very little to avoid hurting myself emotionally and
    mentally. It’s like shaving my brain with wax strips
    instead of a razor. If my brain were hairy.

  • A Swedish Cancerversary

    Poor me.
    Pour me
    another.

    This summer will be five years since I had my sub total colectomy (bowel removal/intestine eviction). So, essentially that will be five years of being cancer-free. I’d quite like to do something to “celebrate” (as much as you can celebrate once having a life-threatening disease). I googled it to get some ideas and there are a lot of sites about it, apparently it’s called a cancerversary, but that sounds a bit weird. I looked up the exact date of my operation, and it was 27th July 2010. Funnily enough, two days ago me and my parents booked a trip to Gothenburg, Sweden (I’m learning Swedish and can’t wait to go). We’re going on our trip on the 27th. Weird, right?

    So that’s kind of a celebration. Though I might not want to mention that to my parents, because, awks. Awkward to talk about what happened full stop, but awkward celebrating me being okay when my brother died of cancer. Is that survivor’s guilt?

    I don’t know. Plus it’s occurred to me that any thoughts about celebrating six months in advance could be a bit previous. Like tempting fate. So. That makes me feel scared. So, mixed feelings. Happiness, relief, sorrow, guilt, fear, impatience.

  • Normal service will resume!

    I’ve been neglecting my blog/poetry a little this week as I have been working on a flash fiction piece for a competition. I spent all week on this one story I didn’t like very much, and today when the deadline came along, I wrote something that I think is a lot better in less than two hours. Go figure!

    Normal service will resume next week!

  • Fog Lights

    This is the new normal.
    Take it and run with it because it’s all there is. 

    So what, we have to go to therapists now
    just to have someone who will listen?
    Just to have someone who understands
    or at least listens for long enough to realise
    there’s something there yearning
    to be understood? 

    Someone to shine a light in the fog:
    I’m starting to realise that’s all I’ve ever
    really wanted from anyone. 

    My door has always been wide open,
    now flung off the hinges as I sit
    muttering to myself: “This is the new normal.”

    I am still adamant that I’ve never cared
    what anyone else thinks about me. I just care about
    how I’m treated. That’s not the same thing.
    I’ll be myself even if it kills me.
    At the very least, I’ll try to understand me.

    I have never been more honest in my poetry than I am these days, and I have never loved writing more.

  • If I’m the person

    If I’m the person
    other people think I am

    I can’t take it.

  • There’s nothing wrong

    There’s nothing wrong with the scars on our hands,
    we’re all just trying to understand.

  • Knowing when to stop writing

    It seems I’m still learning the art of knowing when to finish a poem.

    You know, instead of trying to cram every idea that pops into my head into that one poem I’m currently working on. Because sometimes I have ideas that sort-of-but-don’t-really fit into one neat piece, and if I try to mash them together they become something that’s not neat at all. I know I don’t edit my poems much, but I do try to give them some kind of finesse. Also someone, somewhere from inside my memory, said something like “If a poem only has three good lines, it should only be three lines long.”

    (more…)

  • English Clouds

    English Clouds

    Trying not to think about it
    is far too much like hard work.
    Believe me, I have been trying
    to kerb my thoughts, to retrain
    myself, but I don’t have the
    discipline, and it is exhausting.

    It is very much like trying
    to tell the English clouds
    not to cry about it.