Some Other Time
Nothing in my mind was right today. The advantage was stolen by something other than me caring. Determined to undermine my inner thinking and turn it into misery for its own uses, its own abuses, its own envying of my will to be its clandestined trophy. And while some might see such a thing as a brilliant sculpture of plated golds I smell the tarnished rot of the years seeping through its fiber and tossed haplessly in an old box that is covered with the dusts of a generation stacked in a corner out of sight, out of mind. I take a moment now to look back over the day trying to figure out where and when it crept in. Sometime before coffee? Sometime after lunch? Somewhere in the long stretch of the evening? Then realize, it began before then, before I ever opened my eyes to a new day. It started last evening just after my shower while I was standing in front of the mirror with still damp skin. The mirror in the bathroom covered with droplets of moisture, beading tiny ...