#33

I'm not going to do this sort of thing a lot. But this was simply too choice not to share.

Do you goddamn see that shit? That is so fucking good. That is the perfect thing to look at on any given Tuesday. 

*

Read that the Philippines are extremely big on recreational reading. Makes me really want to visit! I already did want to, but even more now. It is wonderful to be among readers, in places for readers, designed by readers, who have formed a culture around reading. I am proud to be an American, every day and in every way, but my average compatriot can't even decipher the words on their favorite liquor bottles to a reasonable adult standard, and generally regards books themselves as status symbols, reputation totems, or wastes of valuable time.

Speaking of books, perhaps you have heard that I have written a couple, one of short fictions and one of short poetry, available in digital formats, paperbacks coming soon. They are neither ostentatious nor lengthy, and can be casually enjoyed as well as obsessively decoded. Won't you consider their purchase?

*

My feet hurt, my left one especially, and feature some blisters of very respectable size indeed. This is because I have taken to walking barefoot as much as possible on the way to and back from work. Interestingly, they hurt less than they would if I were wearing boots. If I were wearing boots, the cramps and aches in my left foot would be worse, the front of my right foot would ache abominably, and my ankles would have blisters. My feet wouldn't, and their flesh would be less tender. But in general, barefoot is the way to go. Soon the blisters will pop and things will get easier after being briefly harder.

I screwed up my left foot playing basketball in the sixth grade. It twisted and seized so funny under my folding ankle that a splinter of bone shore free from the metatarsal second from the left. That left the tendency to cramp sometimes, as well as the occasional deep ache now and again.

When I was twenty-two, the state of my residence elected to clamp an alcohol bracelet on my ankle, which fit very badly and dug constantly into my lateral malleolus, unless I walked too enthusiastically, which would send it swinging away from said anklebone and then swinging back into it like a little wrecking ball. It hurt real bad, pretty much constantly, screwed up my gait while it was on and for a long time after, and left a permanent little venous shadow of bruise and a pain which cheerfully resided there for years.

At twenty-three, I crashed my scooter late at night, and as I was foolishly wearing sandals, I tore the shit out of my left foot and battered enough of the rest of me to be getting on with. Three scars on the back of the foot, more cramps, more aches. 

Made it an extra year after that, but when I was twenty-five I smacked my right knee bad enough in a second and considerably more hardcore scooter accident to mess up my gait again, and make my left foot pull the hard duty for a long while. At this point, the old boy cramps and aches and bugs at me pretty much all the time--except when fully relaxed in a set position, or when I'm walking barefoot.

*

That's only part of the reason I've been walking barefoot, though! Tune in tomorrow for the big secret, which is not a secret at all but merely my reflections, and whims, and the odd decisions and strange ideas that compose my inner life. For right now, I have other text fields to conquer. 

Godspeed, friends, and may light shine golden and blessed on your lives.


--JL