no rotting food today and it felt like the greatest day of my life.
wind rushing against me in my life on two wheels.
no rotting food on a bike, only harvested wheat floating and swooshing and tickling my nose as i sneeze and sneeze and sneeze and wish i had a job that paid medical benefits so i could get some medicine.
wind rushing against me in my life on two wheels.
no room for cardboard or cans or crusty milk jugs on a bike, only my backpack and sunglasses and hands on the brakes as i careen down the hill nearly passing cars and i wish i had disc brakes and not the worn down rubber pads.
beta band beta band beta band always makes me feel the way i want to. beta band and bike and banded bandana around my neck.
it will be okay.
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How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
-William Ernest Henley
about me
Just sitting here, wandering around. Peeking out from time to time. Wondering what's on the other side of the hill.
Me and my dog. Me and my running shoes.
I'll drink the drink and eat the food and rub my hands in the dirt. I'll do handstands in the snow. Laughing and dancing with a straight face.
Me and my dog. Me and my running shoes.
I'll drink the drink and eat the food and rub my hands in the dirt. I'll do handstands in the snow. Laughing and dancing with a straight face.
about wording why
Wording Why is a word workstation of sorts, a space to create vivid snapshots, to tinker with sentences and sounds and pacing, to take things I've experienced (big or small, real or imagined) and paint them into something new.
In the beginning, elements of truth outweighed fiction, but that trend has reversed over the years. Although many posts still contain elements of truth, this should not be confused with a journal or personal nonfiction.
Images as words.
In the beginning, elements of truth outweighed fiction, but that trend has reversed over the years. Although many posts still contain elements of truth, this should not be confused with a journal or personal nonfiction.
Images as words.
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Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
-William Ernest Henley