makeshift wings

I’m ready for the win­ter. To be reborn with the first snow­fall that cov­ers the grass, awash in muf­fled seren­i­ty.

Time is mea­sured in weeks, not by the cycle of day and night, and this makes every­thing pass at a blis­ter­ing pace. The good weeks involve bacon break­fasts and peo­ple bring­ing me food and new projects and Magic nights. The bad ones involve bat­tles with my old arch neme­sis, acne, and his side-kick, scar­ring-on-my-fuck­ing-nose.

I’ve been deal­ing with this over­whelm­ing sense that any­thing can change. So much has left me feel­ing like there’s no cer­tain­ty any­more. Maybe that’s why I’ve stopped dream­ing. I have no idea what to expect from the future, and I don’t know if that scares me or gives me hope.

To stop myself from think­ing about it too much, I dis­tract with all the right things and few of the wrong ones. It’s a frag­ile form of sta­bil­i­ty. Some days, the strings, they don’t do enough.


  1. I kind of enjoy uncer­tain­ty, up to a cer­tain point I guess. I would­n’t like it up to the point of hav­ing no food or shel­ter secu­ri­ty for instance.

  2. The ‘few of the wrong ones’ brought my mind round to the “smoke yer mar­i­juani­ca” line of Adam Sandler’s that I just heard today.… Channuka being around the cor­ner…

    I feel this uncer­tain­ty all the time too. Even though I’m attached and have crit­ters, I have shift­ing dreams full of strange peo­ple I don’t know instead of that one per­son I used to con­stant­ly care about. I even was an English per­son with an English accent in a dream recent­ly. It’s like even I myself am a shift­ing per­son who I don’t know.

    I do think to some extent every­one feels this though.… and I think par­ents must feel par­tic­u­lar­ly at a loss when their chil­dren look to them for answers. But the great thing is that stuff that’s still immense­ly pos­i­tive can still drop in unan­nounced. And it does.

    • Hah you know me so well.

      Sounds like you’re try­ing (or want­i­ng) to define your­self, and the dreams are sub­con­scious­ly telling you this.

  3. oops Chanukah

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