Monday, April 15, 2013

sunshine is my ex-boyfriend

Credit where credit is due; the summer is a very high and proud summer this year indeed, oh yes, oh boy, damn straight, sure. Sweat is a method of cooling down the skin, and as well a method of toxin excretion, but not these days. Now sweat is my skin actually melting, bit by bit. From Ice Queen extraordinaire, breaking hearts left and right and eating the poems of boys for dinner and washing down the bitter taste with their tears, I shall become a puddle. Splash, splash, spite, spite. You will not dream of me, you will step in me and I will soak your shoes and the bottom bit of your pants leg.

There really is no where to run and no motivation to either (hear these words from my mouth, my meaning mine meaning me, a lover of exercise and cardio longer than my attention span). The Sun is everywhere, saying hello from 92,955,807 miles away. Hello, I am the Sun. I am here. Please don't ignore me. The Sun is whiny and clingy and desperate. The heat is smothering me. The Sun saw what we did to Pluto and got terrified of being next, terrified of being dumped, of being in the past. The 8 minute gap between us does nothing to ease the insecurities of a celestial body.

What other explanation is there? Solar flares? No. It's a sad, struggling, extension towards us, us, us. Why else is there heat in the air and heat in my water, heat in my blood, heat under my dress and blowing up my skirt, heat in classrooms and restrooms and under cold water? Either the Sun wants us so bad bad badly, or the Sun is angry because we've been craving the cold for too long. 

Snap crackle pop, this is a problem. Thinking about what exactly the Sun could be thinking is a problem-making thought process. Oh. Maybe the Sun has forgotten about us, has turned the other way, is looking around the room as we try to hold a conversation, because the Sun, oh glorious gorgeous life-giver, is bored and is waiting for someone else to show up. Maybe the Sun is lazy. Can't be damned. Cannot be assed. Can not be bothered. Oh.

Whatever the reason, it is very hot and this is me, complaining about the heat as if it's the most important thing in the world and the most important thing in my life and everyone should pay attention to me me me as I talk about the goddamn weather as if it was a personal insult against me.

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