it bears repeating (a good bear).

i reckon it's a blizzard, if not in the literal sense, it feels so. mister stopped in his tracks several times and looked at me intently, begging the question, why go on? haven't we gone on enough? true, i thought back, far enough, and not too far, for you want to get back to your new bone, and my feet are cracking and barking like two old indignant dogs. and when i said, you want to go home? he ran. he's a dog after my own heart. i do intend to savor and celebrate the good things in life, but when the dogs bark it's good to pay heed. somethings need to be said, and heard. i do not wish to moan and groan my woes, but thinking pragmatically, i wonder how i will manage to walk on forever cracked feet. i got a salve for bleeding cracks, and i cannot imagine that, walking on bleeding cracks. my groin twinges at the thought. so, neither optimistically not pessimistically, but pragmatically, this is an after the before moment, in a lifelong continuum of tinea, it may go to sleep, but it will i'm told, remain with me, and how i will walk remains to be seen.