There was a fist fight on the porch today and some talk about slaughtering a whole hog. A scraped forearm and a slipping seatpost. The break didn’t come until well after five. Two nurses talked about unions and furloughs and flat tires. Another nurse checked the box on a checkpoint and Nick came through right near the end. It’s difficult to say when the push will pull back, but it’ll come eventually and then the deep breaths can be had. Until then the sandwiches just sit in the microwave and the phone rings off the hook. The five flows steadily toward the south and wind fires back against on more days than it doesn’t. The legs cramp and the dog snores.
All just a bunch of words.
These are all just words on a screen that flow together as though they had been spoken. That’s the idea anyway. Sometimes there is insight and sometimes there is metaphor. Sometimes these words are recollections and sometimes they are simply just nonsense, but at the end of the day they are all just words. Words that have meaning to all that read them and yet there will never be consistency in how they are understood. It’s not possible. Every single set of eyes that reads these pieces interpret them different. It’s fucking amazing. A real wonder of this beautiful world.
I love you all. Truly I do.