Picture from Dawson's office for the next few weeks. Hyalite Canyon. It's not far from the house, but far enough to fill you up with wild goodness for the day; sunshine and snow covered, wind-blown goodness.
Supposedly I’m going to inject a little poetic cadence into this day by adding a bit of prose to this here blank canvas, but it’s nowhere to be found this fine evening. Drained. Completely drained. Feeling like an American, longing for calories and laziness. There’s not even success to be had in the calorie consumption arena due to laziness winning out. Tonight its a war against entropy and the force has me in its body-in-repose-stays-in-repose grip. Granted the day brought good things or so I recall, strangely.
What is it about certain days that makes you tell the tale of the earlier portion like it occurred during your previous life stage? Seriously, it was THIS morning, yet it feels like it must have been when I was a mere nymph.
I won’t bore you with my metamorphosis fantasies since its not the change I long for so much anymore, but the time to drift away, asleep in a cocoon. Dreamy. No bills to worry over or spontaneously arise just as you thought you were getting ahead, can’t because you’re sacked out in the cocoon. No frustrations about where you are in your life relative to where you think you should be, can’t ’cause, sigh, cocoon-town. No fretting over how you said or what you said and who you said it to, yep, sailed off to cocoon-ville.
Dreams aside, for now I’m going to finish my slack jawed dullard day with a bit o’ television. God bless America!