last year was our coping year. our lacksidasical, doldrum-inspired year of slacking and sleeping. now its the year of recovery, rehab, masochism. We took a mental health year and now we are running twice as fast.
last year we ran with failing duty and dedication, slowing and slowing. not caring about our time. this year its a six minute mile, hitting the wall and going over. faster and accelerating. too fast. cant slow down fast enough. lead calves and ragdoll arms. chest swells to the point of a break.
last year was comfort and networking and making tangles for a mess we knew we wouldn't get around to disentwining until now.
now is consequence. now is my year of productive insomnia.
