it's six degrees outside. six. great.
forty-eight percent
of my body is needed
to make the rest move.
i'm trying to change that number.
this (see picture) is what i felt like after my second cup of coffee this morning. so i decided to wear the high heels after all, and i set off into the ten-degree day to meet my fate. my fate, it would seem, is to be painfully cold for hours and hours while almost but not quite arguing with a college boy about why every writer who makes up a word and inserts it into an unintelligible sentence is not the next james joyce. in the end we agreed that he should start his own publishing house, call it "obscure and obfuscated incorporated," and, somewhere down the line, when he had news of his bankruptcy to report, call me for his quiet but firm "i told you so."
no, that's a lie. we didn't agree to that. i just decided it inside of my own head and didn't speak to him about it again. because, well, because even a mighty kitten is still a kitten. and besides, it was only the second time we'd ever spoken. i'll have plenty of time to prove myself later on.
and here's the second thing i decided, marching home ever so fiercely in my high fierce heels: i'm going to buy some absinthe. it's going to be good absinthe, french or swiss, and it's going to cost me a lot of money. i'm not concerned about that because money isn't good for anything but spending, and i'm going to die anyway, so i may as well get drunk, and if i'm going to get drunk i may as well do it with a quality spirit. and that's that.
clomp clomp clomp clomp clomp clomp.
i'm not all that graceful in my heels. and it's now six degrees and i can't quite feel the better part of my body, particularly my feet, so that doesn't help.
or maybe it does. extreme cold is painful, and pain is centering, it pulls all of you into one location, one moment. so when you are in such cold and it hurts, and all of you moves into the hurt and then out of it at once into wherever you are headed next, you get to that next place in a very different state of mind than you might have otherwise. you get there whole, and you get there either utterly defeated or utterly
ready. it isn't true that whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. but it doesn't have to. it only has to make you braver. it has to make you ready.
clomp clomp clomp clomp
of my body is needed
to make the rest move.
i'm trying to change that number.
this (see picture) is what i felt like after my second cup of coffee this morning. so i decided to wear the high heels after all, and i set off into the ten-degree day to meet my fate. my fate, it would seem, is to be painfully cold for hours and hours while almost but not quite arguing with a college boy about why every writer who makes up a word and inserts it into an unintelligible sentence is not the next james joyce. in the end we agreed that he should start his own publishing house, call it "obscure and obfuscated incorporated," and, somewhere down the line, when he had news of his bankruptcy to report, call me for his quiet but firm "i told you so."
no, that's a lie. we didn't agree to that. i just decided it inside of my own head and didn't speak to him about it again. because, well, because even a mighty kitten is still a kitten. and besides, it was only the second time we'd ever spoken. i'll have plenty of time to prove myself later on.
and here's the second thing i decided, marching home ever so fiercely in my high fierce heels: i'm going to buy some absinthe. it's going to be good absinthe, french or swiss, and it's going to cost me a lot of money. i'm not concerned about that because money isn't good for anything but spending, and i'm going to die anyway, so i may as well get drunk, and if i'm going to get drunk i may as well do it with a quality spirit. and that's that.
clomp clomp clomp clomp clomp clomp.
i'm not all that graceful in my heels. and it's now six degrees and i can't quite feel the better part of my body, particularly my feet, so that doesn't help.
or maybe it does. extreme cold is painful, and pain is centering, it pulls all of you into one location, one moment. so when you are in such cold and it hurts, and all of you moves into the hurt and then out of it at once into wherever you are headed next, you get to that next place in a very different state of mind than you might have otherwise. you get there whole, and you get there either utterly defeated or utterly
ready. it isn't true that whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. but it doesn't have to. it only has to make you braver. it has to make you ready.
clomp clomp clomp clomp
Labels: confessional, weather
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