Nearly ran out of coffee

That is almost a sin! Well if you were religious of course.

Was a glorious transition from nocturnal blackness to golden rays of sun pasting themselves across the grey concrete of the city.

The coolness in the air stops the thoughts that this is really one f**king hot summer. Hotter by the fact that there is no breeze to take away the stagnant humidity. The early morning feeling is accompanied by the cacophony of silence that has bird song sewn through it's floating air.

And the balcony day begins. Another weekend away from some activity that is better than just breathing. Learning to survive. Thinking is the world really going to end like the scientists say?

The money may not be real, but the paper trail of bills from the front door surely is. And so, as days merge into each other in an attempt to save this sad soul from following every other rat on the sinking ship, he looks at his horizon and the dream that awaits on that distant island of hope.

Don't look upon this life like it is meant to mean something. Don't look upon any in such a way. There is value, but there is no reason. Like much of Mother Nature's glorious plan, the tick-tock of reason in life's cycle has no human explanation. I do fall asleep a night and then after the blackness that is my deep sleep my eyes do open to what is referred to as the next day.

I have mosquitoes piercing my skin in the beauty of the morning and wonder why the need to be so ignorant and cause that pain. Why the ants scuttle across my balcony and make nests in my plant beds? There is so much land out there. It has to be my gardenia bush?

Have to wonder why the crack appeared just there on the wall and not ten inches to the right. Is that the chaos theory in practice, or just some bad karma? Either way, there are so many fated chances in this world and we are all just part of it.
The coffee was short and sweet today (8well, without sugar8) and Confucius wasn't here to talk to as the balcony became the day. And now this note will end a little earlier as a small amount of coffee is better than nothing, but not enough to track the myriad of thoughts bouncing around this noggins on this weekend day. So I will go gaze at the blue that is up yonder and marvel at the swallows flight and see if my muse request has been answered. Work today, or take the day off? At this early hour I am happy to take the next breath and maybe see what happens as the world catches up a little. A world of creativity trapped inside and not enough time to express even the simplest of dreams. The connection. The words, the smiles, the laugh, the banter and the probability that it will go, as much as the sun sets on the day. As it will on this day.
Ah, maybe I should start drink more English Breakfast? The coffee really f**ks with you and the early morning thinking process...or is it being in love?