Friday, November 12, 2010

Morning Session

It’s been a long time since I’ve written in the morning and it feels good. My slumber still fresh on my eyes and my mind as clear as the cool gray air. Legs aren’t weary, arms are nimble and my phone just itching to wake me up. Its teatime for sure. There is truly something serene about this hour of day. The first of the kids are awake, thumbing remotes for a glimpse of cartoons and spilling milk from their cereal bowls. Everybody else sleeps, dead in their beds; the world is for the young even if only for a little while. I am a half-breed, my chin grows fur, but I still like marshmallows in my hot chocolate. I woke up for no reason at all today. No hangover of REM, no drag from my limbs, just wide eyes and a fulfilling sense of fresh. The shower can wait, my toothbrush lies idle, this morning is for my mind. I want to stretch it out, let neurons take a deep breath and smile, give my brain a moments rest (it never gets any sleep).

It’s raining, but I like it. It’s cold, but cozy and my kettle is boiling. I laugh every time it does. The only kitchen device that tells you when it hurts. You’d think it’d get tougher, but it still whines when it wants off. Water in my cup, bag in my hand, I make a match and they make out. Love you can watch. A love you can taste, a love that will burn if you don’t let it chill out. Coffee seriously isn’t for me.

The drops fall harder, the day struggles to get brighter and I’m tired of waiting around. I turn on a light and watch the trees just soak it all in. My apartment is quiet, my clothes are still off, and the TV has no purpose. Just blank stares. I have a strange urge to play the trumpet. Break the silence so abrasively that it’s funny. My roommate would get pissed and I’d eventually feel like a douche. Maybe the unexpected isn’t as happy cool as it seems. The thought is funny enough.

I wonder what birds do to keep dry? I’d offer them some tea, but they’d shit on my floor. I like the way my face feels today. Its completely alive and breathing. Function meets joy and a new day unfolds.

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