weaktwos

Good morning, everyone.

I have a drum lesson in an hour. I'm waiting on breakfast (eggs and toast), drinking me mornin' grog (coffee), and talking to some silly goose who works all night and is too tired to sleep.

Well, I'm feeling better and better, but I still have schpilkus in my gennechtagezoink (hooked on phonics, baby). It takes one hot shower to clear the air waves of all that pools up in my head while I sleep.

Meanwhile, as I have my calm little morning of coffee, nose blowing, banter and breakfast eating, someone somewhere is getting bombed, or fighting for their life, or suffering some private hell. Here I sit, quite safe in suburbia. Sometimes the contrast disturbs me. It's moments like these that I am grateful for all that I have, and all that I do not have, and the fact that I do not have super-powered senses to pick up on all the suffering going on out there. In this, I do not sense the divine. I sense only chaos. What grand odds for me to be born in life with such pitiful obstacles to overcome. I certainly never deserved such good fortune.

And then I'll change gears. Thanks to