I really want to write something beautiful, something with a message. But all I have done today is lay here in bed, listen to my stomach churn, and have cats sleeping on top of me. But I do have the window blinds open just to remind me there is life beyond this bed. From here I can make out branches on the trees stretching out like arms towards the sun. So while the rest of the world bounces across the speed bump in front of my home, the cats warm themselves in the rays of the sun.
I suppose you could say, “I need to get up and take over this day”. Or maybe that I need to get over myself and, “Man up, buttercup”. But at the moment all you would get out of me are a few choice cuss words telling you where to shove it. On the outside I’m a pleasant enough fellow, but deep within I can often be troubled. Growing up in an age of not expressing your emotions can do that to you. And believe me, I was a good student.
While some moments were meant for reflection, others are to be shouted from the rooftops. But then there are does moments when you just lay still and do nothing. Not every moment is meant to be remembered. Not every word meant to be repeated. Life often is what it is, a series of routines we carry out every day. I don’t mean to be so “uninspiring”, but often in moments like this, the most clarity shines through.