Kid just loves him some cows (komos) wrote,
Kid just loves him some cows

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The grace of a kodiac

Everything I have been and everything I have done is known to me. Even if my mind refuses to remember, it is held in my body. It is a palpable energy that races for release, an other-mind that cries out with joy for its movement.

The Charles was lovely at sunset, moreso because I had ridden there. I sat for a long time watching the rowers. Northeastern Crew was out, putting a new-ish group through the paces.

Earlier, watching the marathon, I almost wanted to cry. There was something almost too beautiful and too mesmerizing in the river of bobbing heads coming down the hill towards where I was standing. The same black ink on shirts and arms, written instructions to cheer the names written there. "Go Matt!" "Alright Veena." Applause. "Yeah, Eagles!" in a mysterious surge of school pride. Later, at the barbecue, I was surprised to see "Matt" on the tv crossing the finish line. He was spent and had to be escorted to the medical tent.

He looked incredibly happy.

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