I have long thought most of us are just canaries in the mine: Designed to detect dangers and destined to attempt to pass on warning.
We are all pretty freaked out about something, and most of the things are neither insignificant nor small. Even the most innocent and unlikely conversation these days seems to include a personal tragedy of heroic proportions. Cancer. Death. Disloyalty. Red Tide. Childhood pregnancy. Involuntary evacuation.
We are walking, talking mood rings, animated graffiti, holographic public service announcements , shills, politicians and felt weather predictors.
This weather causes me to feel shitty my leaded feet reach to my ribcage; above that everything aches. Muscles just lay inert like sleeping cats annoyed you’ve addressed them.
Yawn – stretch
Chill. It’s hot.”
I think the cats are right. Always have. Still do.