The most powerful thing a person may become is a symbol.

listening, empathy, and regard, have been processed into products.

Listening, empathy, and regard, have become commodities.

I think the first communication was, “I’m going to eat you.”

At some point after that, I imagine “I’m not going to eat you”, was conveyed. After all, it’s no good if your future meal runs all the meat off itself every time it sees you.

Negotiations continue.

I want to be valid.

I want to be seen. And then I want to be loved.

How do I know I am worthy of love?

I don’t. I only feel I am.

Yes, of course I’m afraid.

The reward warrants the danger.

A face made for smiling is a fine thing to have.

My father, imperfect as he was, and is, could not be improved as a model. He could have done no better than he did, and does. Only he could show me my own struggles and vulnerabilities. My dad is a living lesson.

This is an old sentiment. I restate it only as a reminder. The cold is hard, but it brings contrast to the edges of life.

The winter hardens the outside. It distills the warmth within. It reminds me of my frailty, and howls to me of my needs. It is the time I must cling to my home and those I love. The time when I must radiate warmth lest I go stiff.

In the morning, I walk out in its quite. I smell the emptiness. It lends salience to the whiff of wood smoke in the air, the scolding of a squirrel, the sound of my breath. Life is thin this time of year.

Who but we of the north have luxuriated in ritual of warming I do on my return from the woods? The stripping of clothes. The shiver before stepping into the steaming water. In places where they don’t know the cold, can they know the true meaning of sanctuary?

I have done illegal things – spent moments out of the state of legality.

I have never been illegal – never woken up in a state of illegality. I have never been illegal as I ate, as I slept, as I drove, as I shit, illegal as I fucked, illegal as I walked my dog down the street, as I read a book, watched TV, worked at my job, as I sat and watched clouds, laughed, cried.

How can a person be illegal?