Home

Home is lonely. I'm hanging out with Sam and Noah right now but it's still lonely. They like to sit in my room (or rather in my presence) and read. So the silence fills up the emptiness and becomes even more empty than it was in the first place because everything that's here reminds me of where I'm not, or who I'm not with more like. I can't wait for the summer to be over.

The heat's already oppressive. Late August weather in mid-June. Already over 100. Last night Cher took me to a Dr. John, Neville Brothers, and BB King concert which was amazing. But at 7pm it was still 101 degrees outside and I wondered if my mind weren't already cooked beyond measure or if it was just my imagination that my skin was boiling off. I've decided that it was just my imagination to remedy the horror of what this heat does to us.

The sky is still on the edge between light and dark and it's after 9pm.

I went out walking again today. Noah came with me. Tomorrow I have to start out earlier because the heat gets too intense and I have to stop before I get in all my miles. Ideally, it'll be my 7.5 like it was in May but it'll be hard getting myself up at 5:30 to beat the over-90 mid-mornings. All I can think about is the heat.

It seeps into your brain like water through the cracks, boils out your eyeballs and your hair and your skin. The humidity sticks to your teeth it runs so deep and before you know it it's haunting your dreams, soaking your bed, making the nightmare of the waking day inescapable and all we can do it pray for a winter which never comes. We sigh with relief for a 90-degree cool breeze.

It's why I moved to New England. Unfortunately, I still spend the worst part of the year in the region I sought to escape. So much for freedom. The heat follows me and the air's so thick I suffocate in it as it wraps itself around my mouth and nose and I crumble under that legendary Southern Wrath.