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- I woke up this morning and the tiny cut on my thumb joint was red and raw, bleeding, as if I'd just cut it. I cut it two days ago - perhaps it's finally time for a bandaid and Neosporin. The joint of my pointer finger feels like it's been cut as well but it hasn't. This is some weird internal pain that feels like it's on the surface, oww. Treatment: painkillers would be good, not for the painkilling but for the anti-inflammatory. Remember when I would listen to Bon Iver on repeat all day long? The Wolves (Act I and II) expressed it all so perfectly, and re: Stacks - I'd sit here and listen, over and over. It seems like that's all I did for two months straight. Today I was teary-eyed because of something else - a program my work is involved with helping children of soldiers who have been killed. This morning I talked to the wife of one of those soldiers. She has two little girls, 9 years old and 2 years old, and oh, if this program works out for them, I don't even know the impact it would have, I cannot even gauge. It's a good thing, definitely a good thing, but I can't help but feel that anything that anyone does can't possibly make up for the fact that this guy is dead, and I also can't forget that I don't think he's dead because of greed and lies. I am happy and optimistic these days, maybe for silly reasons, like the hint of spring in the air, the melting of snowbanks, an open window, a person walking around a corner at the same time as me. I am excited about things, things seem to be falling into place: roommate, money, film festival, radio. I got a really good latte this morning - tenacity pays off eventually.
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