this winter, do something nice for yourself
Take a drive to the rusty Pennsylvania town you'd read about in a novel.
Put superfluous mileage on your car, and buy the mediocre gas station coffee
you won't finish. Get wooed by a leather-wrapped blank journal in a stationery store
despite the mounting evidence you won't fill it. Enroll in that improv class even if
you chicken out before the first session. When the party invite comes, suspend your answer
in the liminal space of "I'll get back you to you" and don't think yourself negligible if you fail
to meet your own promise. Cleave, even briefly, from the monumental effort
of forced cheer. Instead, wade into the same grey miasma as the sky outside your windows,
the non-light it throws on everything beneath it. Welcome your uncertainties like
old friends, back from a long trip overseas. Make their bed with the softest sheets you own.