Beacons in the Deep

Today is a day that finds us besieged by invisible terrors. If anything positive could be said about such a situation, at least it forces one to remain in a perpetual state of kinetic motion: running, biting, screaming. And as it happens, wildly thrashing is a good cardio workout. At least until something comes along and takes a bite out of you; and all that rhetoric about weight-loss gets colored with a darker irony.

It was a sleepless night, with much tossing and turning. What actual sleep there was to be had was either fitful or pretend. (you know, fake sleep is a party trick devised to trick large predators) We're outnumbered by them on these dark nights.

There's an absurd amount of communication going on between us; me and my cryptic speaking, and you with your non-words and non-speech. On one end, a stream of babble. And on the other, static.

I was supposed to go meet some artists tonight, but I'm feeling kind of burned out. Instead, I think I'll hang out at home and have a quiet night to myself. Now the question becomes: wine or coffee?

The coffee cup is intrinsically linked to to all other coffee cups a person has ever held in their hands. With that connection there is remembrance, fondness, and the hissing roar of an espresso machine drowning out all other sounds in the world. By contrast, the wine glass is firmly anchored in the here and now, and dares you think on the past and future only at your own peril, lest you fall victim to one of nature's more despicable hangovers.



what's today's flavor?