Blowing Wishes

Winter is long on contemplation and short on spark.

Sure the fresh white blanket of snow times are wonderful but most of it is just hibernation without the time for sleep.

I’ve been longing for air on my skin, longing for the freedom of heat and sun and tan. Wishing for the flash of the lines on the pavement as my tires speed over them and air blows in through the windows whipping my hair into a fresh Muppet style.  Makes me think of the light feeling in my head when I blow the seeds off an August dandelion. Sucking myself and my wish in so hard and then letting the air puff out, sending it off into oblivion.

Funny the things we wish on. A dying star, a cake about to be devoured, the seeds of a flower we’ll never see bloom. And if it did we’d probably pluck it with our weederator.

It might be time to set my headless stems down. What with it being January.

I suppose resolutions are the wishes we plant in our own yard. The seeds we have to care for, weed around and tend to see them bloom. Right there, the split between goal and wish becomes apparent. It’s inherent that a wish should come easy and that what we love about it. I don’t know about anyone else but I sure as fuck haven’t ever walked out in my yard and discovered something amazing growing that I didn’t plant. Well there was that weird tiny headed sunflower once but that was one of those freak accidents involving my crazy bird feeding neighbor and some bird shit.

It should be noted here that I already lost count of my orgasms, the one resolution I made this year was simply to count them. Let's say it's because they're too abundant.