Contained

Lately Rian has been wondering if that giddy swelling to bursting feeling I have loved for so long, that growing and bubbling until the flesh strips away and I am free, free is not truly such a glittering spiritual thing after all, but perhaps a swirling black hole threatening bounds. A monster in its lair, waiting and laughing.

Is that why I prefer not to fall into instrospection? I do not want to see the growing gargoyle in the mirror? Be caught in the vortex? Vertigo! Vertigo! I imagine black sap at my core, rising.

Also. Rian's foot...the one I broke falling down the stairs three years ago...has suddenly started throbbing sharp claws. I have even caught mySelf limping. Most like it was walking on the beach, as uneven sand does odd things to one's balance. Yet, still. I find it irritating.

On the other hand, Rian is very much enjoying George R. R. Martin. I am neartly through with his Second.

And tonight Rian is allowed to give fake tattoos to a carnival crew.

...that is all.