More Trouble

 

More Trouble
 
 
 
 
 
Woke up at 2 am and asked myself, “Now What?”  And of course, in response from the skeptical professional of early morning collections, I started out with the first thing in mind from a restful, long nights sleep.  Is part of the routine, and am happy to have the opportunity to record the brainwaves that come with 8 hours more of restoration of the mind, body and out-of-body-soul.  Consciousness and wakefulness as one grand impulse.  Here we are.  Innocent in pajamas and with tea in hand, speeds towards the computer station, one of many in a 20 by 20 foot space, and turns on everything.
 
 
 
 
All-in-One existence and it begins when the computer comes to life, and first things first, is the scan that makes revelation and prominence come into view.  Is with this introduction that I burst onto the scene and stage my entrance in such a way, I would think perhaps I am on a revolving stage designed for the sole purpose of projecting one’s state of cleverness and fresh insight as morning claims one’s senses and provokes a word or two.  “More Trouble.”  He said.
 
 
 
First thoughts and that by itself could be most troubling, unless of course you are a daily visitor to his world and his blogs.  “Now What?”  And if you stick around he will share his first of the morning thoughts with you.  “Straight From Heaven.”  He said.  But we know better.  More than likely just a bad dream, and he is that stream of consciousness reveler that thinks its’ his job to tell it as it is.  And that in itself spells out what I wanted to say, in early morning spurts of tantrum and mistrust, a rant of sorts about what it is like at 2 am in the morning, to wake and go directly to Google Banner News, only to find the world’s version of what’s going on, and in brief it all can be summarized as:  More Trouble.  Fake News.  And Op-Ed Opinion 101.
 
 
More Trouble, and just saying this brings to mind a favorite subject of mine.  Chaos.  Disorderly Conduct.  Duck and Run Existence.  Upside Down in a floating bucket, lost at sea.  All of this occurs to me, and its spontaneous.  “Professional Skeptic.”  He said.  And prays that even if this is true, it can be offset or balanced by a truth and innocence that comes with the light of a new day.
 
 
Take what you can of this precious moment and refine it best one can.  Is the advice he dishes out, as he take a moment in the kitchen to brew a cup of tea and unload the dishwasher, with one hand tied behind his back, as defiance and resistance to “More Trouble.”  “Fake News.”  And Chaos, which seems to be a constant in the display of morning and horizon and first thoughts, upon waking.  Seems that this is part of the routine that comes and goes, as each day passes.  Sorting it out and learning to put it all in perspective, for positive inspection and review, and even as it is seen in screen-image-print, we must assert the obvious.  “It Might Not Be True.”
 
 
Is where my interest in Chaos and Misunderstanding begins.  Nothing is as it seems.  Illusion might be the solid thought that represents early morning consciousness and expression.  “ Imagine That.”  He said.   And goes on to tell you about a dream he had, just before waking.  Bears repeating, or possibly not and as a visitor to his blog and to his early morning state of mind, I ask:  “What does this have to do with me?”  And that is the precise moment and spot where I realize its easy to sweep what others say, under the rug and out of sight.  Dismiss it from your mind.  Let your first morning consciousness rest in the outskirts of an unblemished and almost perfect place.  “Where would that be?”
 
 
And of course, he has an answer but wants you to be the master of your space, and provide an answer that suits only you.  Doesn’t want to provide a universal answer, in one-size-fits-all garment, to counter the statement that was first presented.  “More Trouble.”    Wants you to come up with your own handling of the subject and issue of perceived chaos and the feeling that comes with a sense of being out of control, or not in control. “ He brought it up.  Not me.”  Is one line of defense to fight the input from an alien world, not of your immediate construction.  “Imaginary.  Fake News.  One person’s opinion.  Just a TWEET.”
 
 
 
Residue and by-product of a modern world, often beyond understanding as it is presented by others.  Had me believing that tomorrow would never come, and that the promise of something good was but a myth.  But then here I sit.  Steaming tea in cup, and cup in my hand.  Perfect symmetry and hints of order, not chaos.  Counter response and immediate.  Here I am.  Is like an answer to each day’s morning prayer.  Go to bed at night, and offer a prayer that I wake into another day, and to celebrate such will do something promising and positive and better than what was accomplished, just yesterday.
 
 
 
 
So there you have it.  Staying in the moment, but giving word and hence, essence to yesterday, but limiting the damage done in talking about the past, by saying a pray and asking for forgivence and reaching out for a better tomorrow.  And there it is.  Chaos displaced.  Yesterday, today and tomorrow as one unit.  Comes with his first thoughts and translates into an act of consciousness,   and is expressed.  Morning Prayer.  Takes the place of the implant, “More Trouble.”, and cleanses his mind in such a way,  he is beyond panic and fear.  Wakes into a space of clarity where consciousness makes purity seem possible.  Tea.  Prayer.  A moment of peace and quiet.  Then he abandons what he has, and turns on the computer and invites you in.
 
 
 
Its morning.  He has just woke up.  First thoughts, computer-aided, and he makes a bold statement.  “I can do better than this.”  Is  how he sums it up, and believes in what he tells himself.  Not selling damaged goods, and not packaging any of this as Fake News, he wants order over chaos, safety before violence, and most of all, he wants a sense of control of what he allows to be around him and in his mind-space.  “Is this asking for too much?”   He repeats all this as if by repetitive conditioning  he puts butter and jam on the toast he has just made.  Adds warm or hot tea and begins to process the incoming traffic as if he sits in a toll booth and it is his job to protect and serve and do what is best for all, not just him.  Daily routine and morning and headlights redirecting first light from the sun, and it is as if poetry of everyday things is being written, and it is easy to say, “This is beautiful.  Read it like it is.”
 
 
Leave residue and by-products of too much exhaust and  emission fumes by the wayside.  Sit in place and be calm.  Enjoy what you are doing.  Toll Booth and it is your job. Orderly and safe passage and is what you have dedicated many of your waking hours to.  More than just making money, you think it important.  And this becomes you.  Orderly behavior and conduct.  More than a job, is what you have chosen to do.  Each day.
 
 
 
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