Thoughts while running, 6/1/23

Sometimes i think the poetic words i say or think are poetic only to me

And only when i am in one of my "every other Tuesday' poetic moods, when life and every dirty slug in it means something. 

Like when a crushed can of beer is more than just trash and more like a sentence from the story of what occurred the night before.

Just like when the song 'business' by Eminem is more than a song and actually the secret ingredient to the motivation juice that keeps my legs moving while I'm on a run (it's something about the beat idk).

And the the creepy shirtless men i pass by are more than strangers and more like motivation to run faster, they're beings I'm used (in different forms) to that make the pain from my blisters (formed from four days of restless runs) vanish until the men streets behind. 

So maybe it's all irrational, all slightly not there, like the beauty i find from the grubbiest parts of the world and in the letters that decorate every entry in my notes app. But every other Tuesday (and sometimes in-between too) i am unbearably grateful to burn under the sun, to feel my calfs and my toes and to feel pain and life in this body of mine, while i run to keep my restless body and mind sane.