Just was outside with Coney while she went potty. The air was chilly
yet not cold, so refreshing, so freeing…. So. Invigorating.
As I came in I realized the warm air was stifling, dangerous, full of
wait and wonder as to what happens next.
I long to open the window just a crack, but the heat is on so I can’t.
I hate stagnant air. I run a fan year round. And now I wonder why,
as it occurs me there is a reason oh yes, a reason I don’t want to
think about, ever. …. Nor do I want avoiding it to control me.
I was going to say the cold air is safe, the fresh air is safe, and
yet I hear someone inside saying “no its not, it really isn’t”. And
so I can’t say that.
Feeling increasingly panicky as I write this. Perhaps that is enough for now.