Moments of contemplation fleet and fly. Self-actualization rides the wind of trumpets ringing, while a drink slips from hand to table after a nice warming sip. A head nod — agreeing, thinking — confirms continuation.
Eyes closed, wrinkling and smushing the corners, to see inside the self. Searching for the answers not found on chestnut eyes and red pouty lips. Another distraction to forget about the pain etched into lungs.
Maneuvering from eyelids to the brian, the search inward continues.
The world moves around each breath. The music playing in the background of a dive bar with stained tables with sticky surfaces from who knows what from years of heavy day drinkers — all regulars — and lazy night staff. A warm breeze breaks through the open patio doors. The traffic muffles any hint of nature. Strangers walking by seem more interesting than anything else going on in the vicinity.
The brain reveals nothing worthwhile — just worries about the impression. Onward the search continues. Deeper we go, from brain to throat as the eyes roll further backward.
Trust in the self or in others? Mixed emotions of where to place this powerful tool. A lingering dread that the correct spot is the carrot and society is the stick and God is the one that placed it in front of your face.
Traveling down the esophagus, the eyes bypass the heart and lungs — knowing they wretch and beat without rhythm, yearning for far too much. Greedy bastards. Instead, they connect with the stomach, a satiable beast.
Earth spins around a fixed axis that apparently can move — thanks to human intervention, mistakes, and destruction. A tiny wobble affecting everything on the planet. Except, we can’t see it and more strangers journey, interrupting the pathway of the night’s current.
From stomach to groin.
Sex and lust burn. Passion, grief, and shame also burn. Regret and joy, the taste of memories. Onward we must go, craving our next celibate release.
The buckling knees barely hold the weight from our last encounter.
Twisting and turning from uncomfortable postures due to constant attention. Necks break and heads shift forward for shrinking brains and glowing bricks grafted into children’s hands.
Finally, the tingling of toes. A numbing sensation designed as an early warning signal we all choose to ignore.
Speed is a constant. Exponential growth, bottom lines, fixate our consciousness. Drives us. Propagates worth.
It’s a slow, dignified sip, still warming, that opens the eyes. A moment of contemplation begets a moment alone. The chestnut eyes and ruby lips have become another stranger of the night, while the warm breeze kisses your cheek.