It's nearly 6am on a Monday morning. A garbage truck sent to remind me of my insomnia parked outside. Rattled bottles, the beeping from it's reverse, warning of danger and waking me from my slumber. It's Monday morning, I should be getting up for something. Something of importance or sustenance. I lay on a sofa bed in the living room. My father's home is quiet. Birds chirp outside, but they aren't like home. They don't taunt me. I have nowhere to go, but wish I did. Nowhere to go? Seems like a metaphor more than a situation.
A tall glass of water. Leftover avocados and tomato salad sit by my side. This is my day. If I do nothing else today, it will be nearly as much as today. I think about those who live in luxury. What do they do all day? The chosen few, born into wealth, or those that acquired it at a young enough age to enjoy it. MY grandmother, nearing 100, asked of me, "do you want to get old?' "No," I replied, "not even close." I would take ten or fifteen more years, if there wasn't any stress. Wasn't any worry. I sit on my father's porch. Nobody is up, but these sanitation workers. Slaving away, with the hopes that one day, this will be there life. I know this is temporary. I know it can't last forever, but wish that it could.
I sit on the porch, as I did yesterday. Nothing to do, but be with my thoughts. I play a game, chat with a friend. Keep company with my father or grandmother. We choose here or the back deck. The back deck to gaze at a sunset, while sipping hot coffee and eating a berry pie. I like the porch. It faces the world and I can nod at those who pass by. We share that brief moment, where they, walking a dog or jogging, acknowledge the calm. It's soothing. It won't last.
It's cool right now. As cool as it's been in days. A chill goes down my spine, but it's refreshing. The beads of sweat that were there two days ago were not as pleasant. I think about what I want in life. It's not a big house or a fancy car. It's not a wife and 2.2 kids. I look across the street. The yellow house with the picket fence. A teacher, her husband and son. The perfect family I guess. The trash cans in front of the house, the SUV in the driveway...it's the American Dream. It's not mine anymore. But do I even have one?
My grandmother asked me what I would do if I could do anything. I thought of my friends that are in need and even those who aren't. I think about the kids that bring me happiness. I think of those who have been there for me and those who I've been there for them. I think about all there is in life. All we strive for and none of it matters. So what is it? What do I want if wanting wasn't an option? Sadly it's just so simple and so uneventful. It's almost embarrassing. I see my friends cars and houses. Their vacation pictures and their symbols of status. I want for none of it. Honestly.
I want to be woken by the birds. I want to make breakfast and sit and watch as school children prance to school. I want the coffee to warm me from within and the sun to burn of the morning dew. I want the day not to matter. Golf, lunch with a friend, or a movie. I want to sit and blog, or maybe even write. I want to play games and laugh at others and maybe give them a chuckle. I want to sit with a friend, or even better, a lover and sip wine and eat cheeses, anticipating the suns departure. I want to cook for those who I care about and sit around a table for hours, laughing, thinking, debating, whatever the course may be. I want to end the day as I started. Sipping coffee that warms me from within. I want to bid those friends adieu, but have that one special person stay. I want to turn of the lights and know that tomorrow will be the same. No pressure, no fear and more than anything, I want to know, I don't have to do it alone.
A tall glass of water. Leftover avocados and tomato salad sit by my side. This is my day. If I do nothing else today, it will be nearly as much as today. I think about those who live in luxury. What do they do all day? The chosen few, born into wealth, or those that acquired it at a young enough age to enjoy it. MY grandmother, nearing 100, asked of me, "do you want to get old?' "No," I replied, "not even close." I would take ten or fifteen more years, if there wasn't any stress. Wasn't any worry. I sit on my father's porch. Nobody is up, but these sanitation workers. Slaving away, with the hopes that one day, this will be there life. I know this is temporary. I know it can't last forever, but wish that it could.
I sit on the porch, as I did yesterday. Nothing to do, but be with my thoughts. I play a game, chat with a friend. Keep company with my father or grandmother. We choose here or the back deck. The back deck to gaze at a sunset, while sipping hot coffee and eating a berry pie. I like the porch. It faces the world and I can nod at those who pass by. We share that brief moment, where they, walking a dog or jogging, acknowledge the calm. It's soothing. It won't last.
It's cool right now. As cool as it's been in days. A chill goes down my spine, but it's refreshing. The beads of sweat that were there two days ago were not as pleasant. I think about what I want in life. It's not a big house or a fancy car. It's not a wife and 2.2 kids. I look across the street. The yellow house with the picket fence. A teacher, her husband and son. The perfect family I guess. The trash cans in front of the house, the SUV in the driveway...it's the American Dream. It's not mine anymore. But do I even have one?
My grandmother asked me what I would do if I could do anything. I thought of my friends that are in need and even those who aren't. I think about the kids that bring me happiness. I think of those who have been there for me and those who I've been there for them. I think about all there is in life. All we strive for and none of it matters. So what is it? What do I want if wanting wasn't an option? Sadly it's just so simple and so uneventful. It's almost embarrassing. I see my friends cars and houses. Their vacation pictures and their symbols of status. I want for none of it. Honestly.
I want to be woken by the birds. I want to make breakfast and sit and watch as school children prance to school. I want the coffee to warm me from within and the sun to burn of the morning dew. I want the day not to matter. Golf, lunch with a friend, or a movie. I want to sit and blog, or maybe even write. I want to play games and laugh at others and maybe give them a chuckle. I want to sit with a friend, or even better, a lover and sip wine and eat cheeses, anticipating the suns departure. I want to cook for those who I care about and sit around a table for hours, laughing, thinking, debating, whatever the course may be. I want to end the day as I started. Sipping coffee that warms me from within. I want to bid those friends adieu, but have that one special person stay. I want to turn of the lights and know that tomorrow will be the same. No pressure, no fear and more than anything, I want to know, I don't have to do it alone.
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