Mrs Wallace had to jaywalk to make the bus, which was about to pull away. It wasn't easy. She was overweight and her left knee, which hadn't been feeling so good of late, felt spongey. Breathing ... [+]
My posture is god awful.
All day I sit and
I stare
with my eyes downcast and
my shoulders approaching my ears.
Every once in a while my
awareness returns
and I swiftly push my
chest out and straighten my
spine, but in five minutes
or less
I will return to my
seemingly natural positioning.
I wonder why my back
hurts. I ponder
the crick in my
neck. I lift
my shoulders higher
as the night grows colder,
pull my knees to my chest
and fit my chin between them.
I sleep in a similar position.
My arms wrap me up
like a birthday present,
left loose
enough so that I can
crack my neck
fingers and
toes every couple of minutes.
I need to get up to crack my back.
All day I sit and
I stare
with my eyes downcast and
my shoulders approaching my ears.
Every once in a while my
awareness returns
and I swiftly push my
chest out and straighten my
spine, but in five minutes
or less
I will return to my
seemingly natural positioning.
I wonder why my back
hurts. I ponder
the crick in my
neck. I lift
my shoulders higher
as the night grows colder,
pull my knees to my chest
and fit my chin between them.
I sleep in a similar position.
My arms wrap me up
like a birthday present,
left loose
enough so that I can
crack my neck
fingers and
toes every couple of minutes.
I need to get up to crack my back.