It’s interesting, crawling out of bed and slowly… slowly growing, animate with each swig of black dark roast. The bitter flavor and caffeine chasing away the subtle derangements of the, “Wtf is happening?” mind.
Everything dry with winter; the sandman’s lingering dandruff jihading these eyeballs. Stepping outside to get the mail, feeling nose hairs freeze. Hacking a loogie and spitting it at the sun. It plops on a frozen dog turd.
If life is a story, it’s a mixture of Kafka, Nora Roberts, Abbot and Costello, and Zombieland.
Thoughts meander through
Limping morning’s growing pains –
Smiling with the view
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