I carry my tension in my shoulders and neck. Sometmes, it feels like everything between my neck and lower back is just a slab of dried meat, or a rocky carapace molded into its final shape. Then, I stretch - reach for the sky! Reach for the walls! Grainy musculature grinds against itself. Sinews bend only with the promise to snap back into shape.
Then, I twist my neck, and with a pop I feel tension release, like a spring that's come unwound.
I'm getting older. Not old, but certainly older. It's lamentable that as much care as I put into the meat-sack, it's already wearing out.
Blogged with the Flock Browser
No comments:
Post a Comment