a tornado moving away from you

9:09 – 9:27

Felt strong enough this morning to throw my car overhead into Lake Union, spinning it like a lasso and releasing like an arrow. Watching it rock-skip across and then never sink. I’ve read eating hamburgers is worse for the environment than driving a car, even a leaky, groaning, old Ford Focus. So choose your battles. Watch the others fight and die other issues you are vaguely attached to. Why yes I have a dishwasher. (Or me.) No, of course I wash my dishes by hand. The warm water only comes out at two settings and one setting is not-at-all. Other is niagara and extreme wasteful. Then the clickery heating ducts that tap tap tap on my ears like an ice pick exploring for cranial cables to severe to make me more docile. No no doctor. Give me the surgery that severs my docility.

A stress fracture, or fractured stress, something compartmentalized into different bodies of pain contained within me like sleeping viruses. So I’m anxious because my life is changing rapidly for the better. There is travel momentum on my side.

Brief side story. One week ago today we met up with Kiel in Arcata, California after a terrifying night of cloudy, icy, night-flying over the blackening coast. He droves for free to the airport, gave us a smooch, and off we went. Velocity in tow, our bags full of velocity, our eyes in all directions, our speed our adrenaline, our veins pumping it through the innercity work of organs interacting. Let chemical washes flow. From Arcata we flew down the coast nearly to Oakland before cutting inland, aimed at Bakersfield. Along the rocky coast I saw a pod of whales, I believe to be a pod of California Gray Whales embarking on their great northern migration. We flew at 2,000 feet over them and waved and they steamengined water out of their blow holes for sheer joy of it. They breathe oxygen and are warmblooded. So many swirling blowholing shapes down their among the rocky outcrops and little buried islands, the little buried islands that wreck schooners.

So many other details. A little flight sick for me over the cattle farms and wheat fields a bit inland. After seeing the model villages of Napa Valley. Then over the ass end of the Sierra Nevadas over wind farms and a valley spreading in all directions at sunset. Then following highway 12 up into the city because a visual reference is worth erasing flight plans for. Otherwise vague mountainous hills as we are told to descend via tower and probably terrain alert right into them with a speed of 140 mph, basically just a really fast car all the way down through the air of cold Tacoma to the Gulf of Mexico, the heat and humidity and elevation loss and gain and so many little houses down dirt roads with cars driving on them .

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