The moon will be out soon, kids. Where shall your thoughts be this eve? Me? I am wandering about in the old mill house of reverie where I spin little stories and think my oft wicked thoughts. Also my inspired ideals too but today I am besotted with gratitude and a peckish sort of mischief that surely must be because of this full moon a'coming. Typing away and not quite sure what I'd like share except the calm of a Sunday night after a nice meal and a blessed sense that the weekend was actually just what I wanted. Wicked thoughts and all.
Yes, today was the first long run of the season and it is fine, fine, super fine - to be sitting at home on Sunday night - completely the fuck wiped out from running and about ready to go to bed. Yes, Virginia, I'll wait till 7p before tottering off to the bedroom, more than likely... but the cats are fed and so am I and I am going to sleep to the sound of cicadas whirling in the early fall cool and sleep like a goddess that's been pleasured all day/night for the millennium. O'she is content. And blissed to feel the fatigue - the full out exhaustion of working yourself to your limit. Oh, to run! Free free of everything and everyone and only the lake and the sound of foot fall in front, behind. The glare of the sun as we round the path off Oak Street. The heat on the cement. The taste of the water. I could weep for these mornings. And it is good after such a long recovery to be back up and to feel strong again. Oh, thank you. Thank you - merciful heavens. It is so hopelessly sweet. So complete. Back up and working for it again in the city of my dreams: Chicago. Chicago, Chicago - you beautiful town. Is there anything more lovely than to know your streets, your lakeside, your old brick-hewn alleys, your porches. I could have wept to see the mist this morning on the harbor. Back up. Geese flying overhead. The sound of fall approaching even in this heat that sprung up today. Back up. And moving forward.
I hope I have some luscious dreams tonight. I will moon bathe and concoct a few spells even whilst I slumber. I promise. I am running again and the horizon is open and clear.
Yes, today was the first long run of the season and it is fine, fine, super fine - to be sitting at home on Sunday night - completely the fuck wiped out from running and about ready to go to bed. Yes, Virginia, I'll wait till 7p before tottering off to the bedroom, more than likely... but the cats are fed and so am I and I am going to sleep to the sound of cicadas whirling in the early fall cool and sleep like a goddess that's been pleasured all day/night for the millennium. O'she is content. And blissed to feel the fatigue - the full out exhaustion of working yourself to your limit. Oh, to run! Free free of everything and everyone and only the lake and the sound of foot fall in front, behind. The glare of the sun as we round the path off Oak Street. The heat on the cement. The taste of the water. I could weep for these mornings. And it is good after such a long recovery to be back up and to feel strong again. Oh, thank you. Thank you - merciful heavens. It is so hopelessly sweet. So complete. Back up and working for it again in the city of my dreams: Chicago. Chicago, Chicago - you beautiful town. Is there anything more lovely than to know your streets, your lakeside, your old brick-hewn alleys, your porches. I could have wept to see the mist this morning on the harbor. Back up. Geese flying overhead. The sound of fall approaching even in this heat that sprung up today. Back up. And moving forward.
I hope I have some luscious dreams tonight. I will moon bathe and concoct a few spells even whilst I slumber. I promise. I am running again and the horizon is open and clear.
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