Wednesday, October 17, 2012
If I were more of a narcissist, and I am --albeit a wounded one--, I might think that the wind and the calamity last night came from me. That was certainly happening in my chest cavity, my neck, things were tumbling down the streets; I didn't bother to chase them. I just sat, dumbfounded at its persistence, and clenched in pain. Until the wind started and the branches started breaking and the power outage resonated my own short circuit, and then I felt calm. And I fell asleep to the howling and the banging of my blinds. So, of course, it wasn't from me, but I could appreciate it.