How could you possibly have to wait two hours while there are all of only three people in the waiting room? I imagine that the behind those steel doors is a vast and wild playground, and various doctors are lounging around in velvet chairs, feet up in the air, cigars hanging loosely from their bottom lips, the air rich with a sweetly scented haze. Others crowd around a pool table, balancing tumblers of whiskey and pool sticks between their hands, laughter cackling up to the chandeliers. “Bob Isn’t it your turn soon?” “Yea man, but I’ve been making this one wait for an hour and a half, might as well make it two at this point….” One single white coat hangs on a rack in the corner, they whisk it on their way out whenever it’s their turn, always returning within 15 minutes.
I always feel so unbelievably wholesome and complete after a day spent at a barn, in the outdoors, with hooved beasts. And there is where you’ll find me.
There is the pure sonic pleasure of it, a sound that connotes feasting: the first blessing coup, overflowing with that sweetly lilting ling. And there is the tacit rhyme with supple, leaving the word sinuous and lithe, carving s-curves in the air. There is the root word, couple, which suggests…
Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain
It is a wonderful time to begin anything at all.
(via thelifeguardlibrarian)
Remember this time, when you were 21 and it was “trending” for your friends to turn 21 and you spent way too much time in a mexican restaurant shithole with red walls and Christmas lights strung all around because they offered a free marguerita on your 21st birthday and no one you were friends with could resist free things because. hey it’s college. And what the hell, yolo. And you have no idea where you’ll be in one year and that absolutely terrifies you. And you wrote from the bar, because you loved to write, and you loved this time, of almost 22