january: resist everything that would destroy you: apathy, entropy, tyranny
february: your pain always has meaning; go to the fucking doctor
march: you do not need the right words or any words at all to be worthwhile; they will love you anyway
april: love and fury are indivisible
may: death isn’t interested in you nor, for the first time in your life, are you interested in her
june: this is how you breathe
july: yes, it is worth the extra work, time, and money to own AC
august: you will spend weeks longing for currents and snowmelt and the summer will pass before you can get a breath in edgewise
september: high collars and independence become you
october: you were not meant to live alone
november: that urge to diminish, to be less, is the antithesis of strength
december: nothing lasts forever and that fact will always be a blessing
what i have learned this year
my wrists ache and my doctor says it’s from typing too much but i think it’s because of all the stories i’ve left untold. my carpals are swollen and burning with narrative that i’m too frightened to let loose from my central nervous system to my peripheral nervous system so i do repetitive, stressful things instead like reading others’ arguments on twitter and wondering why i can’t manage to start conversations with my best friends. a brace will treat the cause, sure, but not the symptom.
The button at the top of WordPress’s dashboard is always so commanding. “Write”, it says. Demands. Usually, I avoid it by having a goodly stash of pre-written works that I paste into the text box, format, and schedule before pretending I won’t have to look at them ever again but all things must come to an end and here I am having run out of pre-written musings. I think I did pretty well, skating by on somewhere in the neighborhood of 60 original works for the better part of two months.
The trouble is that now I have to find that misty place full of doggindales, sit there in the pine barrens and and write what I can see and hear and bring it all back to the world outside. It’s less that it’s a mysterious place and more a frightening one. Who knows whats out there in the dim?