Working...still.

[caloused]

I smell like portland cement. The various cuts and scrapes no longer bleed, the mixture of stone and glue has created an unguent of sorts, stemming the flow. I enjoy that, stopping the flow and pain through the sheer single mindedness to not let such a trivial thing as pain or injury stop you from achieving your goal

Comments

[pyragus]

maybe you work because it is the thing that is done. but why is it so bad to feel good about what you do. working is a healthy way to feel good. I love you. I love that you love what you do.