September 20, 2014

Morning Commute


The engine putters like my heartbeat after the alarm clock muscles and pistons pump blood and oil and the autumn sun paints my car in gold. Yesterday’s problems fog the new day, humid and heavy. They distort traffic lines and blur blinkers. Shifting lanes turns into a chore, I am forced to glance over my shoulder because the defroster hasn’t yet cleared the mirrors. But then something happens between the merges. Something changes. The wheel flows parallel to the yellow lines; it turns and steers on its own. A smile shapes my lips like wet clay. Around the bend, the sun floats into the rear-view, dilates my pupils and illuminates my soul like a silhouette from the 50’s. I am on fire. Alive. Awake. Solarized. I am here and this is the now. Yesterday is gone and there’s nothing I can do about that - a memory that I may or may not learn from. And that’s okay. The vinyl sticks to my palm like electricity, reminding me that I am organic. I am human. I am one organism of many stuck on a giant rock floating in space. I am defined by how I adapt and evolve with the timeline of the universe. My problems and my solutions are what create my present, my past, my future. This is my journey. My fate. It is a fixed destiny, reachable easiest by motor vehicle. I will come and I will go, as will everyone else, whether or not they choose to realize it. Only one thing can fuel me to my own outcome: that is the acceptance of happiness. To be happy is a framework in which I can create, control and destroy. With that power, I can turn the volume to full blast and roll down the windows in I please. It brings me to my now - to my morning commute. I park, smile at the secretary and start a new adventure. It is the only thing anyone can do. Someday you will see that too.

August 30, 2014

In the Sky

In the sky man made measurement of time does not exist. The only reminder you have is how your body reacts to altitude shifts. You adopt a metaphysical transformation. Things change and you notice. Turbulence jitters up your white knuckles and the burnt coffee rattles in its cage. In these small increments of nothing something happens; electricity surges between human particles and the mind grows anxious in a concentrated confinement. Voices will drown in the stale, recycled air. There is no time - that is, in the sense of any purposeful scratch in numerical existence. Your neighbors are but friendly strangers who may or may not complication your own intentions. The world below you moves forward with a passing glance at the lights signaling your position in space. Eternal droning, eclectic, essential and everlasting. Do not look down. Chew some gum so your ears don't pop. Remind yourself where the exit is and realize the illusion of safety that has brought you here. Push the attendant button. Ask for more coffee. Bask in the metal tube hurling through space.  Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking.  We're going to go ahead and begin our descent. The fasten your seatbelts sign is now on. We hope you've enjoyed the flight. Prepare for landing.

August 24, 2014

Train Waves

My morning coffee is accompanied by the distant train that hums southbound along the shore line. The porch rattles; my bones soak in the sunlight. I am enslaved by a laconic atmosphere that echoes between houses and cars quicker here than there. Faded into the distant future as the summer rolls to a close. Jitters pulse through my tendons, spitting coffee at me, mocking my cognizant eardrums. I feel awake. I feel alive. I feel organic. Voices drown out the distant choo and I am brought back to everything present. Cosmic vibrations in the sine waves of a continuous universe.