the purring, stirring nighttime

Dressed like a black cat, ready to pounce on a neighborhood costume party. Drinking sweetened whiskey and dancing around the house while Otis Redding croons to both me and Mooz, who has inspired me in more ways than just this getup.

Montreal is filling up with that wintry air. I didn't wake in time for the ice-slicked streets, only the softened mud mess which followed. Still some flakes fell, and iced over puddles called to my toes for cracking. Watched a little black bag dance awhile in the breezes. Found a spring in my step, and some butterflies stuck inside my rib cage. Setting them free inside this cozy apartment, with every sip and sway. Foggy windows, rosy cheeks, cat's meow/pajamas, etc.

Mmmhmm.

A thought to hold onto.

Approaching every being that I encounter as a burning ball of light and energy. Trying not to think with my eyes, but rather to open up my mind and heart and allow the light to bathe me. And then feel how I feel, and try to feel how you feel. And ask questions, and build up ideas, and share feelings and histories, and imagine possible futures. Realize that nothing is the same, never the same thing twice. Uniqueness, how steadfast that basic thing. Feeling the wonderment and awe of all those things. Getting kicks, in all manners, with all people. Because I'm not sure what else there is.