these coffee and email filled mornings lend me a sense of connectedness that otherwise i'd miss throughout the day. from my vantage point, egg chair on orange yoga mat on 2nd story balcony, i know my neighbor down and tothe right takes her garbage out every morning, i see the mixture of children, dog-walkers and fast-walkers grace the tuttle walkway. at this moment, the palms are swaying, birds are skawking, and the asshole with the loud pipes is revving his bike. this scrawny cunt owns a bike with the loudest pipes i have ever encountered, and he lives in an apartment complex for god's sake. given my druthers, one day i'd like to go give his ugly purple machine a swift kick over on its side, simply for being a goddamned waste of a good bike frame.
there goes my sense of calm and well-being, shattered over an old harley-wanna be. and here come the landscapers, 8:30 in the morning.
the moment i look up from my reverie to drink the day in deeply, is the moment it springs to noisy, petrol-fueled life, and i would really only expect it to. the days are noisy, fast, bustling, smelly, combustible, and there are seldom quiet moments given; those are the easy ones. in the midst of the hectic, the real task is to find these moments in between, in the spaces and breaths, to recreate without going against the flow.