life at the speed of run

my thighs are crying

but the rest of me has not known such pure joy in weeks. i get so tangled up in my own head that i often couldn’t tell you how it feels to relax and simply exist and enjoy. the barn is my cabin in the woods, my masseuse, my IV drip of straight elation. now, the only tension i’m aware of is in my legs, which are slowly realizing they’ve been worked in ways they almost forgot were possible. you’ll be fine, girls. 

i’ve been playing quite the curmudgeon here, lately, so let me just say that i love you all very much for sticking around and experiencing the weird combination of word vomit, observation, reblogs, the few and far-between gpoys, music talk, and antipathic ennui-laden lamentations and/or rants that make up most of this little corner of the internet. thank you, thank you, and hypothetical hugs all around :)