Sometimes tragedies happen, and you feel sad and sick and guilty, but you still have to live and breathe and continue your life.
Sometimes your birthday is on Sunday, and you’re going to turn 28. You are so afraid of time, and you beg it to slow but you know it won’t.
Sometimes, instead of feeling like celebrating, drinking, indulging your vices, your birthday just makes you want to ride farther, write faster, sweat more, consume less, take greater risks.
Sometimes your little brother asks you if you want to go to the laundromat with him. He has a ton of quarters and says it’s on him. So you go, you stand all under a cool vent, and you put a lure at the pokestop and you laugh and hang out while all around you everything spins and spins.
Sometimes you get your parking spot back, you get to correct a tiny wrong.
Sometimes it rains and the desert drinks it all right up.