Monday, October 3, 2005

Do you ever have a string of good days, only to expect, maybe even perversely welcome, a mess of bad? There is a dismal cloud floating on the edge of your vision, slightly out of focus but obvious enough to catch your attention. It’s not a question of whether something’s floating your way, it’s a question of when it will arrive, and within that waiting period lies a taut length of delicious expectation.

When it hits, you notice a complete lack of cosmic reciprocity–the pleasant will always precede the unpleasant, but there are no guarantees of the opposite, no parity in shittiness, no assurance you’re leaving the woods soon. It just seems unfair, you know? I’m going to stomp my feet in protest.