Sunday, November 6, 2011

When It Feels Good

When it feels good the new car smell never fades. You can drive it through swamps and sewage, through pristine crisp forest air. 10,000 miles later and then another 10,000 miles later and another and another and it still smells like the day you met even if on the day you met it smelled like cigarettes and cheap beer.

It doesn't feel like lies. It doesn't feel how lies cut. Deep and you know it's a lie because you can feel the knife in your thigh. You don't need to look down and see the blood and you want to pull it out but what you want more is to find someone who won't stab you.

When it feels good your hands meet half way. You're walking side by side and that little brain tick that says 'hold my hand' responds to their brain's 'hold my hand' and somewhere out there the Beatles are singing about wannaing to hold your hand and so you do and they do and they stay that way.

It doesn't look like brownies but taste like medicine.

When it feels good you can see it in their face and their friend's faces and your friend's faces which become our friend's faces. It's raw happiness like raw almonds, pure and healthy and good for your heart.

It doesn't feel like your first job. Tedious, mundane, routine, mind numbingly dull. Would you like that toasted? Would you like to try a free sample? Would you like to leave those 20 articles of clothing in a crumpled ball on the changing room floor?

When it feels good it’s like minute 29 of a 30 minute run. As each second passes by you are more and more grateful that you got out of bed and you laced up your shoes and you walked out your door and you placed one foot in front of the other and you ran and you ran and you ran. It feels better than your bed, better than an extra hour of sleep. It’s seeing the results of hard work and discipline along the curve of your hip.

It doesn't feel like minute 18 of a 30 minute run.

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