(only herself and who illimitably is)
"It was the story of an egg that went to battle against a
man made of spoons, and won, to become mayor of the world"
- - - China Miéville "The Scar"
My smile, if it's real, runs from here to Oklahoma.
My happiness spills out in all directions, seeping and creeping through cracks and fissures. Yes, I did the math. My joy has a radius of 1,438 miles.
The trouble is, the greater the ocean, the more likely I am to crash into things. Maybe not in Oklahoma, but there are some hills, valleys and mountains, elsewhere, that can bloody up my mouth pretty good as it strains to keep that smile in place.
It's very noble of my body to seek balance, but the imminent low that follows the amazing high gets tiresome. I know it's coming but I certainly don't take a time-out to prepare for it. Let the clepsydras spill. Why lessen the pleasure while I'm swimming in it? So I just get hit, full-on, when I turn the corner and that's the way it always is.
I'm on the crest of the wave and, truth be told, I'm stunned I'm still standing. Today, I rolled down the windows, turned up the music, and made a glorified mockery of myself. I was, fucking, beautiful. And if my choice to embrace 'the lie of no and the truth of yes' is bringing forth such joyful separateness, then I made the right decision.
man made of spoons, and won, to become mayor of the world"
- - - China Miéville "The Scar"
My smile, if it's real, runs from here to Oklahoma.
My happiness spills out in all directions, seeping and creeping through cracks and fissures. Yes, I did the math. My joy has a radius of 1,438 miles.
The trouble is, the greater the ocean, the more likely I am to crash into things. Maybe not in Oklahoma, but there are some hills, valleys and mountains, elsewhere, that can bloody up my mouth pretty good as it strains to keep that smile in place.
It's very noble of my body to seek balance, but the imminent low that follows the amazing high gets tiresome. I know it's coming but I certainly don't take a time-out to prepare for it. Let the clepsydras spill. Why lessen the pleasure while I'm swimming in it? So I just get hit, full-on, when I turn the corner and that's the way it always is.
I'm on the crest of the wave and, truth be told, I'm stunned I'm still standing. Today, I rolled down the windows, turned up the music, and made a glorified mockery of myself. I was, fucking, beautiful. And if my choice to embrace 'the lie of no and the truth of yes' is bringing forth such joyful separateness, then I made the right decision.
posted by clutterofechoes at 12:01 AM
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