How to begin a Wednesday

This morning is like every other in the sense that I wake possessed by a sickly confident smile that reminds me that anything is possible. Fantastic! My house is a mess and I have no food but a good shower with music blasting acts as my breakfast. The tunes come from a radio that I haven’t yet named and my warm towel hangs over the heater waiting for me to take advantage of it. I sing with water on my face and smile. Mornings are the rebirth for another day of this twisted life. Today I will write the story of what happens tomorrow while living in the world I created yesterday.
I will begin my sentences with whatever word feels it is important enough to come first. Then I will follow the beginning of each sentence with its middle and an end. There will always be a place for me in between the words but no matter what I am writing this for someone to read. Are you someone? Well you'll have to figure that out for yourself. I can barely find a pair of matching socks so I may not be of much help on your journey. Ah! The Journey! Is that what this is all about?
I shower, I dry, I dress and cross the street. Then I stumble upon now and my coffee is getting cold. The café fills with souls wanting to find whatever there is to find in this day. I will sit back in the dusty corner listening to show tunes and waiting to see their smiles and the moments of accomplishment when experiences are shared giving life to the feeling of love. That's what is felt between you and I as you read this and I write it. This day, these words, this story of a moment that I have decided to write about is a conversation where I give and you receive while at the same time I am grateful for you receiving. Love is the glue. That may be all that is needed to put a positive spin on the next step of the journey that will take us all away if we just let go. If nothing else the previous sentences have joined us in a bond of not knowing what the hell is being talked about.
Then again, are we strong enough to truly let go? Perhaps as writer and reader we can engage each other in a way that distracts us from the fact that we are about to jump off a fifty foot cliff into the dark water of life. It’s kind of funny considering that each second we are leaping off another cliff without ever realizing that we only stop falling so that we can start again. Get used to it, I say to myself thinking about the beauty of a rainy day while looking at the shining sun through the window. I think I'm going to drive until I get a flat tire and see what happens next. Come with me. If the tire doesn’t go flat I know we’ll eventually run out of gas. Then the adventure begins.
Another cup of coffee sweetened with a fuck off to the dentist as I put three scoops of sugar in the mug. My teeth complain slightly but the smile I wear quiets them by providing purpose. All it takes is a walk over a span of ten feet to see all that one needs to see. A man with a hood over his head sips coffee reading an article about tourists going to space, a woman wearing a fluffy purple coat sits at the coffee bar laughing uncontrollably, and the room where I sit is slowly filling with other mad typists telling there own stories or commenting on mine as I comment on theirs. How strange would it be if the last part was true? All of us sitting here looking at bright white pixilated screens telling stories about what the other ones might be thinking. It is just a symphony of simple appreciation as we share this air with quiet contentment while never saying a word.
I’m reminded of a love that left my life with a flash after I decided that nothing was good enough. She had brown hair and we had a dog. I left every morning to go to school and she left to go to her job. I would smile and she would cry. This was our life and not a moment of it needed to be experienced alone. There was always the company of each other as the days and nights managed to pass leaving us with the fallacy that this was it. It wasn’t for me. At least that was the choice that I made as the summer began. There were tears and hope was disguised as fear for a while but I am in this café at this moment because of that decision to let go. Looking back is part of living now and writing tomorrow.
More strange thoughts erupt inside. There is nothing special about anything I do for the simple reason that anything I do can be done by anyone. The same is true for any of us and anything we do. Still, I can’t help but wonder if the hooded amateur space traveler would receive any significance right now if I didn’t decide to tell you his momentary story. In fact, I know I am giving this moment, with all of the people who surround me, eternal life. I wonder if they know that they are going down in history as I write. Then again who the fuck am I to think that I'm the only one giving this moment life. I may be one of many in some unseen chain of individuals who think they can play God with words. My smile grows as I laugh at the possibilities of life and the stories we could write about what might happen.
I am not God unless everyone is. Then again, I have loved another. I'm thankful of the feelings of loving one as honestly as I have. This gives me the strength to let go of what I can’t control. I let go of my thoughts on the brunette and, sadly, I let go of the dog. Now I am back to this experience that I have spent the past few pages touting as something worth reading, something worth living, something worth something. Don’t keep yourself from laughing if life gives you a chance to smile! Shit, have we lost the point?
Maybe we found it. So let's get back to it. The day began as days do, I drank sweet coffee, watched a man contemplate a trip to the moon, thought of love, imagined rain on a sunny day, and now I am asking you for the validation of whether or not this experience has any significance. Now I have answered my own question. The time has barely passed eight in the morning and this day has already taken me through many moments and the reminders of many more. If I wake each day with coffee and company, contemplations on love, hope, and fear while experiencing the moment than I have lived enough before nine in the morning to pass comfortably from this life. This brings the greatest smile to my face and it leaves the feeling of warmth that determination carries with it. Though I am confident that I could give the world an honest smile if I passed away this second, I have a feeling that I may have the joy of living through many more mornings before I go.
The streets are once again full of people doing people things. I wonder if they realize that this day holds infinite possibilities. I wonder if they smiled when they woke. Laughter echoes through the café reminding me that it may have been the smiles of strangers that made mine possible. Regardless of what has caused this experience of love I am proud to be a part of a world that gives us such amazing gifts. This is the reason we are alive. We’re here to exist, to feel, to love and accept whatever comes in between. Life has a beauty that can bring any man to tears at every moment. Life can also be defined by the madmen who stay awake to laugh at the moon or those who notice them. Life is whatever you want it to be. Laugh at yourself and smile for no reason. Write the story of tomorrow with the actions of today while always keeping in mind that tomorrow may never come. If you need to say something, than say it now.
As the day is still beginning I have trouble bringing the spouting of these words to an end. I think I’d like to ask for your help. The words will end but that means nothing if the feeling continues. If the joy of love really exists, and if just for a single second you can believe in this than we can all experience true bliss. If that is too poetic or it smells faintly of bullshit than bask in this expression of the philosophy I have been painting on this page: Fuck the pompous whore that is doubt, grab hope by the balls and ride it until you lose control!