My legs were the first to act. They rolled off the side of the bed taking my upper body with them in an almost rodeo-like move. I rose from the bed in a roar of dispassionate vivacity, half in a dream, mostly in regret for not finishing that dream though I couldn't remember it nor why I missed a psychotic, nighttime brain play. As dreams faded, shuffling steps carried me to the daily first stop: the bathroom.
The eyes had already been hard at work guiding me from bedside to toilet-side so nimbly that I took their art for granted. They washed themselves with invisible blinks focusing on the dim world; weaving together a million tiny camera shots into a movie.
The lungs, so friendly, doing their job of filtering cubic feet of gas to aerate my blood; left and right working together in perfect unison. They sustained me without question.
It was time for my hands and fingers to play the days first dexterous role. I used my fingers to guide my bladder emptying device in the right direction...not a difficult task to hit an 18 inch wide porcelain receptacle but slightly challenging in the semi-conscious state of early morning. Next, I used same hands in nimbly pulling up my pajamas. Then, one finger automatically scratched my eye. I went from floor porcelain to wall porcelain and turned the tap with right hand, then together right and left hand artistically sculpted a sweet smelling froth from a bar of soap which cleansed and freshened the dark quiet of early morning.
My full body was starting to awaken as the damp, earthy smell of coffee put its stamp on my brain. The olfactory is so close to the brain; a shame it's such weak sense in humans but a driving one nonetheless. Robot state of awakening was dissolving.
Shuffling still...my feet, hands and fingers guided by my crusty yet moist morning eyes managed to fulfill my wish for a cup of hot coffee. My lips savored it; the fumes helped to warm and soften the air that breathed life into my lungs. The hot fumes of the coffee tickled the flakes in the corner of my eyes and I rubbed them clean. A hair, a fleck of skin, a dandruff chunk an eyelash fell from me here and there, like leaves from a fall tree. My brew was becoming a part of me; certainly these things that flew about had mixed into the liquid.
After just a few sips of caffeine, my mind was turning, churning while my body all the while was taking steady care: breaths in and out, heart steady and strong, yawn refreshing oxygen, blinks moistening eyes. Meanwhile, brain wandered into the dark places of other peoples thoughts, of dreams I can't have, of "why can't I be happy?". It took such a different path than eyes, lungs and heart. How does this dark force of mind work unlike my feet and hands and try to upset me, knock me off my balance and keep me in a spin? This organ does not work like the rest! Surely if I heeded it's whims I would run into the street in front of a car and end this pain of life. Yet while it churns and boils, it orchestrates the coffee sips and oatmeal bites and leaves yet enough space to conjure up scenarios of certain disappointment, fear or even death.
The brain is my enemy until I use it as my feet and hands to sustain me. Better to let my hands, feet and lungs take care. Mind them instead.
The eyes had already been hard at work guiding me from bedside to toilet-side so nimbly that I took their art for granted. They washed themselves with invisible blinks focusing on the dim world; weaving together a million tiny camera shots into a movie.
The lungs, so friendly, doing their job of filtering cubic feet of gas to aerate my blood; left and right working together in perfect unison. They sustained me without question.
It was time for my hands and fingers to play the days first dexterous role. I used my fingers to guide my bladder emptying device in the right direction...not a difficult task to hit an 18 inch wide porcelain receptacle but slightly challenging in the semi-conscious state of early morning. Next, I used same hands in nimbly pulling up my pajamas. Then, one finger automatically scratched my eye. I went from floor porcelain to wall porcelain and turned the tap with right hand, then together right and left hand artistically sculpted a sweet smelling froth from a bar of soap which cleansed and freshened the dark quiet of early morning.
My full body was starting to awaken as the damp, earthy smell of coffee put its stamp on my brain. The olfactory is so close to the brain; a shame it's such weak sense in humans but a driving one nonetheless. Robot state of awakening was dissolving.
Shuffling still...my feet, hands and fingers guided by my crusty yet moist morning eyes managed to fulfill my wish for a cup of hot coffee. My lips savored it; the fumes helped to warm and soften the air that breathed life into my lungs. The hot fumes of the coffee tickled the flakes in the corner of my eyes and I rubbed them clean. A hair, a fleck of skin, a dandruff chunk an eyelash fell from me here and there, like leaves from a fall tree. My brew was becoming a part of me; certainly these things that flew about had mixed into the liquid.
After just a few sips of caffeine, my mind was turning, churning while my body all the while was taking steady care: breaths in and out, heart steady and strong, yawn refreshing oxygen, blinks moistening eyes. Meanwhile, brain wandered into the dark places of other peoples thoughts, of dreams I can't have, of "why can't I be happy?". It took such a different path than eyes, lungs and heart. How does this dark force of mind work unlike my feet and hands and try to upset me, knock me off my balance and keep me in a spin? This organ does not work like the rest! Surely if I heeded it's whims I would run into the street in front of a car and end this pain of life. Yet while it churns and boils, it orchestrates the coffee sips and oatmeal bites and leaves yet enough space to conjure up scenarios of certain disappointment, fear or even death.
The brain is my enemy until I use it as my feet and hands to sustain me. Better to let my hands, feet and lungs take care. Mind them instead.
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