meta

summer makes me angry and vapid. I get fat, I don't call people back, I freak out about the course of my life, and I wish for cold. cold words drive me insane on hot days. I think glacier, I think icefield, I think January and tundra and snowblindness, and I go insane because I can feel it so much inside of me but it is months away.

hot days press up against me on all sides and assimilate my brain cells into warm drops of condensation and I forget how to write.

(case in point: I spent four minutes trying to think of the word "condensation" and finally gave up and googled the water cycle)

snowshower, icefall, 15 degrees and windy, a new black wool coat and mismatched mittens and feeling the weather on your face.

none of this "warm bosom of summer" bullshit. no more empty days warm as the exhaust blown out of a vacuum cleaner when your mind is all imploded. I need cold. lung-constricting Minnesota mornings and half-numbed fingers that make me feel alive.

so anyway, kiddies, a few more weeks of this crap. a few hundred dollars left to spend on textbooks and running-red-lights tickets (story at 10) and a few more degrees cooler until equilibrium can be reached. and then you can count on me again. someone should keep me away from writing utensils and computers when I am hot and sad and tired. I don't like disgorging crap like this. mostly because I'll feel better in five minutes anyway.