I've managed to put things up, but I'm not particularly proud of anything. I never really take the time to put out enough effort to merit pride. I. would. suppose.
The weather is lousy today, perfect for a walk. Its the kind of weather where the sky looks like 7:00pm when it's really 11:30 in the morning. The breeze whips my scarf around and makes my nose and cheeks pink and cold. With both hands in the front pockets of my jeans I keep a fast, steady pace to keep my body warm. I like the way the crisp air feels coming through my nostrils and how it hits the back of my nose. It's one of those few things in life I can recognize and appreciate.
When I walk I can forget. I can create a kind of lacuna in my life where I don't need anything, where thought isn't necessary and I can be free. But there's something nostalgic about it, like the smell of chalk. It reminds me of days that were a different kind of lackluster. It makes me feel so old.
I can never seem to win.
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