i think i've narrowed the trigger down to the sound of water dripping from rooftops, running through the streetside gutters, the sweet scent of dirt and gravel and dried grass released finally to seep into the mutating chilly air. the perilous ice is gone and we regain the feel of our footing on the hard dry earth again.
i missed that friction between me and worldly things, hot and rough and tangible. spring is like a stimulant drug in me; it makes my brain buzz around like a bee in a jar, makes me feel like the world is mine.
and why shouldn't it be mine?
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