I love you very much. [redacted] I have been meaning to do this but you know how I am. Tonight [redacted] and I got upset, and cried and went out and smoked a cig and then ran at the arboretum until my lungs were on fire and I knew my legs would be sore into the night. Then I came home [redacted] loving [...] hurts a lot of the time. And we sat crying together [...]
Feels like the contents of the reservoir near Henry Clay leaked out of my eyeballs tonight. I wish my aggression could punch holes into walls, but my anger just diffuses into frustration into despair into sadness. Tears from my shamed face like warm dripping blood.
My legs were bare against the cold of the night, too numb to shiver. I look up and realize the dark canvas above me has shifted, stars once hidden behind hazy whorls of cloud now shine through, the half moon stands clearer now, brilliant white sentry posted in the abyss of a world before dawn. I realize I am so small, my heart and brain and flesh insignificant bits of muscle and goo,
While up there stars and moon have staked their claim for endless years, decades, all of the fabric of time, and I have barely been here for eighteen years, there is still so much I do not know, so much land for me still to trample under my feet, to walk along aimlessly restlessly, to bear the frenzy of my my beating feet while I’m dancing shamelessly, alone in the sun. And in my lifetime how could I ever expect to take it all in? To visit every nation on the earth, to smell the salt of all the seas on each beach, to eke out bigfoot in the Pacific Northwest. My existence
Is the crumb of quiche on my couch that is the universe, there is so much I will leave the world without having run my hands through, so i guess i am just gonna have to stuff down as much as i can into the gullet of my experience while i am still young because who knows when I will be gone.
In three weeks I will take one week off work and set off on the Sheltowee and see how much of the trace I can feast on with my eyes, but I’m scared of my hunger for something that I just can’t place my labor-weathered finger on. I go out on the road and I get my foot on the floor and go racing towards the mountains, away from whatever I’m running from in lexington. I start on the trail and walk until I’m tired and weak and i lay in my tent, nestled in the isolation I’ve been dreaming of but I still feel empty.
I emerge from the woods the next day, civilization’s barns and roads and vast, empty fields a jarring contrast to the song in the patterns of endless forest. At the canopy the leaves are splayed out, branches grasping for a handful of sunlight, fork babbling through the valley shows me the way, fallen leaves crushed underfoot with every step, the rustle of the squirrel and robin in the undergrowth. Oh god Martin it is so good to be out there and i miss the kiss of a dying sun when I’m out on my own, and it is 4:30 am and I haven’t been up this late in a grip.
But I was breathless on the way back to baby harold, and the landscape of the woods broke back into the civilization I had come from, and I wondered why i did it at all, but i also crave it with all my being, but maybe it’s something else I’m craving, or maybe I should just go to bed now.
I may have fucked myself over by [redacted] who doesn’t have the capacity to return it [redacted] dangling off his belt loop like a carabiner. But we’ll be here, the the armpit of town together for the next gap of time, whatever happens. [redacted] I shrugged, emptily said “it is what it is”. But I don’t know. Maybe I’ve made this mistake and it will hurt so deeply when he goes. Or maybe I just have to hold onto what I have [...] and live for every moment until the University of Kentucky sucks me back into its bubble.
I’ll be fine.
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