Fans, fans the musical fruit
4:48 p.m.//06.07.05

Mood: Distant

I leave my fan on. Always. I leave it on for reasons other than what most use fans for; to stay cool, to circulate air, for ventilation. Not me. Of course, never me.

I truly believe that the sound of forced air through the cheap, plastic blades keeps my mood stable and lessens the severity of my depression.

Fans tickle that section of my memory that brings me back to past summers. I'd spend most of my time outdoors, getting into all sorts of trouble. I remember walking home from the pool with a drenched towel around my shoulders, like an overpoweringly, chlorine-stenched scarf. I'd open the front door and step into the extreme climate change. I'd be freezing, yet it was the most comfortable kind of freezing one can imagine.

As an aside, I always managed to take the wrong towels -- the ones my mom reserved for bathing only.

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