Snapshot: a temperament strained like glass on the edge of fracture, and a wallet not where it’s meant to be.
Each time I look elsewhere for the god-damned fucking thing and don’t find it the pressure in my chest ratchets tighter. 554 more words
Does anyone else get a twist in their stomach before going for a run? I don’t mean nerves about racing, just an ordinary training run? I feel this way a lot, a strange sensation that, despite evidence to the contrary, I am not going to be able to do this run, that some, unnamed, thing… 567 more words