07.27.2013 - 07.27.2013
* * *
This, too, shall end? I cannot help but think this transience is slowly degenerating me. Not only does nothing seem permanent, but nothing seems worth making permanent anymore, human attachments included. And so the cynicism spreads. But it hasn't the counterbalancing bitterness of youth, when such minor betrayals were first discovered and condemned. Resignation is the word of the day. Anyway, friendships (at least) need proximity to survive, and right now we are proximate to no one--but each other.
We move ever further north to colder and colder locales. At night we dash from kitchen to bathroom to tent with our noisy, shivering plaints. Then we huddle in our sleeping bags and wait for our body warmth to spread. It does, miraculously, though a certain numbness about the toes persists.