Could a person relax, and still sweat, ache, and be bruised, thus being their own personal form of relaxation. By standard definition, it's not even close, or is it? Relaxing is to be at ease, to me, to be calm, secure, and transplacent oveer any situations that may come.
It can be more than a hammock strung between two trees, more than a soft bed, with warm sheets on in a cold December. Personally, I find myself relaxed when I am stressed from working on a passage, wondering how a particular character will succeed their dilemma, and in that mode, I am ready to tear down the world with the rage that's boiling within.
It is that anger which fuels me, and reminds me of the blood circling in my veins, and the air transforming the oxygen as it enters my body into the carbon dioxide as it exits, which, if enough of it is subjected to an individual, could kill them. So, if I collected a jar of my own carbon dioxide, breathing into an airt tight jar every time I exhaled, could I create a poison-gas bomb?
Now let's see who's going to be snooping around the site after those three words were typed together.
Such a sensitive time now. A land of pussies, really. Uneducated, ignorant, selfish pussies.
No comments:
Post a Comment