Metamorphosis

Greening.

“When it happens, it’ll happen overnight.”

“Yep, it’ll come for you while you sleep, old age. The clocks will strike midnight, your hair will scroll to silver and your tits will fall into your shoes.”

“One day, you’ll wake up old.”

Sage nodding. Ice baths and HRT. Turmeric. Kefir.

“Fun fact. You’re already in your 40th year, did you know?” That’s my carpenter friend, who (apart from this comment) I really rate. “It’s true. You’re about to enter your forty-first year. Think about it: you turn one after your first year, two after your second year, and so on…”

He’s right, damn him.

Pensive, I climbed into the river this evening to trim my bush.

Minds out the gutter.

We were thinking about moving. It was a proxy for restlessness and the constant need to change it up, make it better.

Spotting when you’re happy is a lost art, don’t you think?

Constant dissatisfaction is lucrative. That is why we are all cultivated to be dissatisfied, all the time.

Knowing when you’re happy is the hardest thing.

I d…