Tuesday, July 13, 2010

If Painkillers Be The Fruit Of Love...

I find myself in a similar situation to last year's shit-show. 2009 was trouble, maybe double --- but persevere, did I. It's now times past, and time's passed, and yet here we are again.

The second of what's (hopefully/likely/maybe) a pair of repairs to a broken bone has left me somewhat immobile once again, though this time for not so long as last. Despite being less severe, this latest foray into "recovery" has led to some interesting experiences, begotten at behest of a friend named Vic, proper name somewhat longer and immune to Blogger spell check.

To say I'll get hooked is by far an overreach. But to say Vic don't sneak on in, in times of much distress - well that's just silly. Under Vic's thoughtful direction did I viddy some dreams last night, not fit for printing summations of here - save to say that Vic, well seems to bring out what lays hidden.

Poignantly, I'll say this about my new and temporary friend: shit makes you think of what you didn't say, forget that you shouldn't say it, and coaxes you to actions and words normally left to more private reflection.

So thanks, Vic.

More strange than true.

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