Cottonwoods are creepy. The long end to a very long day and I am trying to fathom the back hike about tho happen to get out of this canyon and find water. My body hurts, my knees are throbbing. My mind is racing and so far past impatient the word seems far from adequate. My heart is impatient and close to the surface. I feel that in my body like bile rising quickly in my throat, a tightness in my chest, the tea pot close to boiling over. My soul is antsy and refusing to settle into my body.
I think secretely I enjoy the falling close to the brink, freaking out a wee bit then drawing back from the precipice. I particularly enjoy in a sick kind of way getting super frusterated and pissed off, then tipping over into that magical realm of ridiculousness and pure giddy abandon. Like tonight, when faced with no choice but the reality that I had to rally somehow, adrenaline I guess kicked in with the exhaustion. I got wicked silly, and things were somehow OK again. I'm grateful for that last unseen and unexpected pool of energy and the good mood adrenaline and endorphins managed to smack me into.
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz..."
About Me
- Me, I'm holding out hope for a zombie attack
- “What are you, life? A silent theater of Chinese shadows, a chain of dreams, a charlatan’s store? Or a gift of unrequited love---that’s all that is intended for me? What about happiness? Ingrate, you’re alive, you weep love strive fall and that’s not enough? What?...Not enough? Oh, is that so? There isn’t anything else.”--Tatyana Tolstaya
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