The Calgary sun feels lighter; it also puts less pressure on her head. Though, the cold is a different story to which her skin overreacts.
Her hands have at least aged by five years. She pays attention to how the skin of her scalp plays with the dust in the sunlight. It feels like her perception is crumbling away. When you look too closely, you get caught in a bubble, she thinks. And this is where she wants her mind to be. Right now. If you have been outside for too long, you will need some time to learn to get back in – without breaking the bubble, that is.
Sleep is not enough, neither is Yoga, but songs in minor keys or Oscar Wilde quotes. These are inspirations for the fiction addict, who only pursues a healthy channel of release to avoid choking on their own inability to find a way to deal with things.
You tell her to hang in there in silence, but it might get so loud inside her head that she starts acting like she were in a Pagliacci-inspired play in front of people that can’t see beneath the surface and laugh.
Make people laugh or make them question.
You have the talent.
You save yourself some questioning by throwing Jung or Nietzsche quotes at them. Let them think what they want. They don’t know you…
When it’s coldest, you forget that the sun won’t always shine to help you see the little things.
And then the skin grows older again under the make-up.
