David Lynch meets high fashion. Photo by Beryl Fine
Waking up before sunrise.
I open my eyes.
I rub them, stimulating the eye balls, wiping the sleep from the crevices.
I stretch my legs and toes, heaving them like sacks of potatoes over the beds edge.
Shuffling in the dark, kicking clothes, feeling around with my feet I stumble to the bathroom.
With the clink of the light on, I now can see clearly.
As I stare idley into my closet. I think of nothing. I stare into infinite.
I reach my finger digits out a grab pants, shirt, socks and shoes. Thoughtlessly I dress my body.
Nurturing my belly with cinnimon corn flakes and rice milk, I stare. Still thoughtless, still numbed from the hours of wistful slumber.
These moments are my treasured routine. Silent, dark and solitary.
A moment of zen.
Sometimes things don’t fall into place.
Life remains unpredictable.
Its the unpredicablitiy that keeps me interested.
Normal reality is dull and mostly lame.
am I wasting time or is this just apart of the quite idleness of life?
my ass hurts from sitting on it for hours on end.
I know this isn’t what I was born to do.
my co-workers content nature towards discontent reality worries me.
it seems unnatural to me to feel obliged to accept dull reality.
at what point is there enough time in a day for mindless existence to be acceptable?
I believe that its conformity that brings us to our knees.
sloppy seconds of an ordinary world is not a sour reality that I’m willing to swallow.
Is it fair to ask “what the fuck”?
Does it make me seem ungrateful, impatient, or unhappy?
I have no clue how I can answer that question.
It steams from my discontent, my over all lack of inspiration from the world around me.
I’m unclear how I can “make” happiness.
Does it grow from the ground?
Is it a fruit that I pluck from my backyard garden and harvest the seed for the next growing season. Can I sell it roadside to anyone who wants to stop and buy it for their own personal uses. Can I dry it and seal it hermetically so that in the dry summer months and in the cold winter months I can have a feast and replenish my happy minerals?
I’m looking to reboot.
Its not as simple as I had hoped.
I fell from my castle window and alas I’m am Rapunzel and cannot throw my own rope of hair down to climb back up to my comfortable plush seat with red velvet.
I took chosen change rather than was afflicted by change.
It doesn’t look as I had hoped, rather my hope was self fulfilled and slightly jaded.
I can admit that…