liquid withdrawl...

Today I walked outside and was forced to look down because the sun was too bright. I remembered what the sun meant to me, and braved what I knew would only last until my eyes adjusted. Then I noticed a particularly efficient spider web. The fabricator had managed to snag many insects in the threads of his web, but either he only cleans up from his meals periodically, or his long-term web upkeep is like my housecleaning. I felt like shaking the web to help him out, and remove the excess corpses from spots which could likely snag new victims, but then I realized that he could be nostalgic like me, and could be displaying the remnants of his favorite catches for passersby. I feel as if I should invite people over to increase his viewership from just myself. Perhaps he doesn't like more than just one, but he should really be proud of his survivalist accomplishment. I suppose I should invite them soon before his web is destroyed by another one of our rainstorms.
I feel like his location couldn't have been better chosen: he is slung over a flowerbox. I sometimes wonder where and when I'll die. But when I do, I hope my head comes to rest in a bed of flowers.

When at last my body falls and there is no energy left to stop its plummet, yes, I hope to fall among flowers. I may crush a few, but those I have mashed into the ground will be replaced by more when at last my decaying corpse fertilizes their earth. I am just sojourning here. I leave it to various flashes of color stuck atop green needles.

Bo lent me the movie Once. I am very impressed and may watch it with Deutsch A if I get the chance. The main title song moves me. I had to stop it mid song and call Bo to thank him for the recommendation. He says he has the soundtrack to trade me for a copy of the new Coldplay CD. What a worthwhile trade.
This week I must find a pool. My body and mind are missing those motions. I feel as if the gym is isolating various parts of my body, whereas the pool equally caresses all parts. I miss the water's tenderness, and I miss the way it runs down the valley in my back.