Everyday life gets a little stranger, with our without a hat. Today I did need a hat. The snow, which has become so typical switched to rain and iced everything in a dangerous sweat. Today instead of scratching poems on the backs of lovers like Anais, I'm scratching my hands trying offset the onset of cabin fever. I want to run up there and wring out all the clouds and blow away the cold back to the floodgates of the mountains. Some days I'm thankful for the nature of each day's slow progression, but there's too much dampened need waiting to rush out. Today I'm too much of a spoiled child to appreciate the stillness.
Today I just want to run.
I'm much too impatient for a future in which I can't see a footing to hold me.
