Canada Goose — the age-old adage of
whether or not a ton of bricks or a ton
of feathers is heavier & the fact that it’s
always the feathers because you have to live
with the guilt on your shoulders. Where
wings would have been in another life.
This is how we number our days — by
the weight of our woes & every word left
unsaid. By the way we measure miles as
heartbeats between every stroke of
lightning & thunderclap, storm as substitute
for the liminality of our lives. Mixtapes as
memory, one static stutter at a time with
every record & strip of road racing beneath
our feet. How long we love even when a
heart has gone silent. Did you know that
the brain still flickers for a moment even
after our lungs give out? The realization that
mortality was real all along. Ask anyone —
ask the geese that used to flock at the pond
but disappeared not too long ago. After all,
nothing ever feels like it’s living until you
realize that time will steal it away someday.
image: Nico Frey
