Wild Conjecture: long-term robotics and immortality in general - I’ve been problem solving since I was little. That’s what I called it, for lack of a better word. Dreaming up some weird new thing in my head and then fi...
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Cold bones shake the soul awake. They toughen the skin.
Cold bones make a warm house happier. They make sweat from a winter run better earned than money.
Cold bones dig down jackets and newbie hats. They are a fan of thermos coffee on the sidelines of a kids' game.
Cold bones seek out bonfires and bourbon's bite. Stout beer is made for cold bones.
Adventures are made up largely of cold bones and innovation and shelter owe their lives to cold bones.
Mountains are not climbed without cold bones and no deer stand or duck blind can tell a story without cold bones.
In the summer, I wake up, walk outside and feel no different. Life is unchanged. Perspective still groggy.
In the winter, cold bones remind me I am alive.