softnesses

aging is a wild thing. in my aging process, my father's become smarter and lovelier, my lover has become stronger, my sense of myself has deepened. i think the wild-eyed depression between 29 and 30 has, for the most part folded inside itself.

i'm softening a bit. like my friend christine says of me when i drink, it "takes the edges off." i like it, this aging me.

don't get me wrong, i'm still not friends with the softening muscles, but i think that has more to do with my attention going to books and ideas than to a daily running regimen. all things in good time.

like now. i gotta change the sheets. it's time to hop into them with my vin.