Sympathy

Word, generic insect. Your Zarathustra-like wisdom keeps me from slipping into sedentary shock, this being my fourth day of injurious ruin. Friday night, while playing tennis with Seorin between rainstorms, I took a nasty spill on the spattered court as a backhand volley executed at full reach and run--my second volley-related trauma, now that I think about it--temporarily interrupted gravity only to revive it accelerated and angry toward my poor right elbow and hip. The volley succeeded, thank you, only to be preyed upon by my ruthless opponent as she sent an easy winner to the open court. Oddly, after getting up and performing a cursory inquest, I found nothing bruised or broken. Lucky fate! Then, later that night, I kneeled to pet my rabbit and--crack--my right knee filed a formal complaint to the effect that FUCK YOU I'M HURT! So now, four days into resting, I feel the need to run around, more maniacally and perhaps more spitefully, than I ever have before. Four days off = timing, balance, and consistency gone, stamina gone, joints achy and mutinous, mind unfocused and mood soured.

How you ever did this for months at a time, Slothrop, I cannot fathom.

I don't know why this particular sympathy card offers its condolence in the likeness of a predatory animal about to pounce on and eviscerate a bug or, for that matter, what a dog killing a butterfly has to do with saying goodbye, unless the intended audience happens to be family or friend to the tiny casualty, but whatever, dog, butterfly, bitchy arthropod Zarathustra, Slothrop, dangerous supine bunny, me, heed this advice:

1. If a thing cause more disorder in its absence than in its presence, it is improperly loved.

2. In order to move and be simple, one must abandon past happiness.

These truths communicated by a broken Koko, who stole them from a mythical conflagration of Nietzsche, St. Bernard of Clairvaux, and Boethius, and imparted to Slothrop and his readership, who prefer the fat Asian guy who sits a lot to my superior godhead: strawberries and Jean Genet.