- SMWI* = Saturday morning workout inspiration.
- Source: wsj.com.
A quick check of atmospheric conditions:
87% humidity. 87% humidity.
Wind S 7 mph.
I’m out the door.
There’s no ranting about weight gain this morning. I’m tired of it. Tired of talking about it. You didn’t seem all that tired when you were savoring the M&M Chocolate Chip Cookies yesterday. Or the 4 you had the day before. 2-Day Count: 10. Staggering (Staggering) lack of discipline and will.
1 mile marker: Impossible to neglect that this carriage is tired. Shoulders heavy. Legs are anvils. Mind thick with resistance. M&M Blood clotting.
2 mile marker: Head winds at 7 mph. I’m sweating like a plow horse in mid-August. If I go any slower, I’ll be pushed backwards. It’s the Sabbath. An appropriate morning to Call on All Gods for inspiration. Christian. Hindu. Muslim. Judaism. Any Creator will do. I look up. Hear nothing. Feel nothing. Appears that the disappointment in me is Universal. All Gods to DK: Repent. [Read more…]
“In the series ‘Wonderland creatures‘, French dancer Arthur Cadre photographed and performed mesmerizing body positions in natural landscapes. The images, which were shot in locations around the world, see Cadre twisting his body and transforming himself into ethereal forms that complement the backdrop. In addition to dance, he practices disciplines such as acrobatics, parkour and contortion.”
Don’t miss other Cadre’s other body position shots: Arthur Cadre Captures Twisting Body Poses In Nature
SMWI*: Saturday Morning Work-Out Inspiration
Notes: SMWI* = Saturday morning workout inspiration.
It’s 2:44 am.
A Full Moon.
Its lambent lighting caresses the earth’s surface.
I trudge downstairs.
Hands greedily reach for ice water.
Eyes pan down to the second shelf.
I reach for the container and lift out two of the largest.
Driscoll’s Finest Raspberries from Watsonville, CA.
The tongue savors the sweet nectar from the red drupelets.
On to unfinished business.
A partially started, uninspiring mess of words following yesterday’s run.
Old fruit aging in the back of the crisper.
I drag the cursor down to select the entire passage.
And hit Delete to bury it.
It was 6:51 am. Yesterday.
I was half way through the run.
It came as a Mind-Pop.
I need to get back by 7:20 am.
But I’m too far out on this loop.
I must get back by 7:20 am. [Read more…]
It’s 4:26 am. Hump Day.
The scale works, with its condescending blink-blink-blink.
Down B*tch. Down.
It flashes Up.
Up 8 lbs since the last running post over a month ago.
I turn to the morning papers. Headline: Burger King has reached out to McDonald’s with a 1-day cease-fire offer to combine the Whopper with the Big Mac to create the McWhopper. Wow.
I shift uncomfortably on the couch.
Don’t care? Don’t want to? Too hot?
Where’s the disgust? The fury?
Riding Apathy Road here.
Wow. [Read more…]
And she held the knife.
“I HATE AMERICA.”
Yes, in CAPS.
5:30 am. July 4th, 2015.
The Wolf Pack was settled in the car and heading down I-95 S.
Six lanes, devoid of traffic.
Eerie. A post-apocalyptic moment on I-95. Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road.” Gray skies, light rain spitting on windshield. No Ash.
I HATE AMERICA.
“She” is Anonymous on the inter-tunnel. She repeats IT over and over, in Caps, a vitriolic cadence wrapped around each of America’s stated ills.
We’re two miles in at Mianus River Park.The terrain is hilly. I’m a roller coaster, with slow climbs up, and gravity pushing faster and faster downward. No. You are a Burro. A Burro carrying an oversized load with its belly dragging. You strain with each step. Your breathlessness, is a suffering inhale-exhale far less refined than the hee-haw of the Burro. Sad eyes drooping, staring down at hooves tiptoeing around rocks, roots and ruts.
I HATE AMERICA.
I read the post on Friday. The words still fresh, blood spilled. Words coming from an American, mid-20s. A Woman. [Read more…]
Check out Clara’s other work on Instagram.
She is graphic designer and illustrator from Tuscany now living in Berlin.
Source: Journal of a Nobody