Jun 2015
I woke up contemplating bourbon and bitters.
Pu-Erh, with local honey, has always been more sensible.
It is warm and it heals a hoarse throat.
After two bags and a little Marquez, I sat at my desk staring at a spider in the opposite corner of my office.
I stared at it for a length of time that is too embarrassing to mention and never once had the inclination to smash it.
Not that it did not deserve it, I simply lacked the motivation.
It occurred to me that I would not trade a deep sleep under the sunlit blinds for a week's pay. How long can one get away with this?
For as long as one's wit will float them is my guess.
No one knows exactly how they want to be perceived when their ego barges into a room, but they know exactly how they do not want to be perceived.
But If I had the power, I would perceive being wanted.
To know I am here on purpose. What does that feel like?
If Hell is my fate for my living sins, then let me die in the arms of the woman that lit the fire within!
When I'm amongst the great race, brooding over my artisanal mug-of-joe, the constant chatter and open planning of the day becomes a spoken roar and I want to scream out, "Keep it down, I'm trying to plan my escape!"
What do I associate with happiness? My dad pouring M&M;'s into my mouth before a football game. Of course, I won't play, but one must be prepared!
The look on my mother's face when I sang well. Getting picked first in a game of pick-up. All the fellas whispering legends.
Ah, to be wanted!
Of late, the pain in my torso has become more persistent. I think of it and my imagination gives way to bouts of sheer panic.
And even this is not an excuse for concern and a peaceful night.
How about a kiss on my neck and chest for a change?
Must I always make you hot?
What if this is my last stand?
What if this is it?
In that final glimpse of consciousness, in my minds eye, all I make out is a faint light far above me and the brown soil and rock digging into my feet below.
What walls did I allow to be built all around me?
Pu-Erh, with local honey, has always been more sensible.
It is warm and it heals a hoarse throat.
After two bags and a little Marquez, I sat at my desk staring at a spider in the opposite corner of my office.
I stared at it for a length of time that is too embarrassing to mention and never once had the inclination to smash it.
Not that it did not deserve it, I simply lacked the motivation.
It occurred to me that I would not trade a deep sleep under the sunlit blinds for a week's pay. How long can one get away with this?
For as long as one's wit will float them is my guess.
No one knows exactly how they want to be perceived when their ego barges into a room, but they know exactly how they do not want to be perceived.
But If I had the power, I would perceive being wanted.
To know I am here on purpose. What does that feel like?
If Hell is my fate for my living sins, then let me die in the arms of the woman that lit the fire within!
When I'm amongst the great race, brooding over my artisanal mug-of-joe, the constant chatter and open planning of the day becomes a spoken roar and I want to scream out, "Keep it down, I'm trying to plan my escape!"
What do I associate with happiness? My dad pouring M&M;'s into my mouth before a football game. Of course, I won't play, but one must be prepared!
The look on my mother's face when I sang well. Getting picked first in a game of pick-up. All the fellas whispering legends.
Ah, to be wanted!
Of late, the pain in my torso has become more persistent. I think of it and my imagination gives way to bouts of sheer panic.
And even this is not an excuse for concern and a peaceful night.
How about a kiss on my neck and chest for a change?
Must I always make you hot?
What if this is my last stand?
What if this is it?
In that final glimpse of consciousness, in my minds eye, all I make out is a faint light far above me and the brown soil and rock digging into my feet below.
What walls did I allow to be built all around me?
