it's spring, it's a grim spring. you can feel the pressure. it feels like we're fish in a shrunken aquarium. we can't grow anymore, the transparent walls. oppression. don't you feel it? i guess fish feel it too, their bulging globular eyes express it well. 
i talked with a girl in the park about the dogs loving mud and the kids, prints on the floor and she was so calm, she felt like a flower child, so peaceful, but traumatized. her name is matisse, and we talked of the late matisse. we lamented that there are no clear seasons any more, only fluctuations, making us wary, wearing us down, the creepy spring in the absent heart of winter, the vortex sure to come.