QUARANTINE GRATITUDE — DAY 21
Life. I’m thankful for life. As horrible, terrible, disgusting, and messy as it can be, I’m thankful for life. It’s just awful and we’re all going to die, and that’s why I’m thankful for this breath. A breath of fresh air, a glass of cool water. The crashing of ocean waves—terrifying, awesome. The simple things, easy as a spoonful of honey. Ice cream. Cookies. Pizza. Relaxing on the couch. Feeling good, feeling the flow. Lying in bed after a busy day. Making love. Dancing. Hearing a song so beautiful, you cry. Crying, crying, crying those tears that make you choke and gasp for air. Feeling that surge of anger rise in you and knowing you should remain calm but screaming instead. Deciding to conquer your emotions, jedi knight style. Watching cinema, feeling elevated; watching a stupid movie, feeling like your brain’s sippin on anesthesia; watching TV, happily sharing in the collective stupor. Sharing a meal with family, with friends, hysterically laughing. Playing with a silly dog, petting a purring kitten. Yes, good hair days. Yes, one day my hair will be grey and then later my head will be nothing but a skull and then later still nothing but dust but today my hair looks good, thank you very much. I appreciate you. You remind me to treasure these infinite hellos, here-i-ams, goodbyes. Exchanging smiles with a stranger. Going to work. Getting good work done. Pay day. Watching the sunset, waking up to the sunrise, bathing in the midday sunshine. The entire length of your body against bare earth. Staring at the Milky Way. Sitting by a fire, taking a sip of whiskey. Returning home from a trip and taking a steaming hot shower. Sharing ideas, conversations. Working together, creating. Writing words like this in a giant stream of consciousness that maybe only one person, your mother, will actually read the whole way through. Always a little too much death for her taste. But black is just another splash on the canvas. Beating the drums, laying down the track, keeping it funky, singing the spirit loose. Making something real, setting it free.