Nothing Out of the Ordinary

i found this little note in one of my folders, probably written three years ago or so. looking back, i vaguely remember now, the imagery that prompted me to write that. but i can't recall writing it at all. just thought i'd post it up. it's always nice to look back at what we've written in the past. from what i read of my old doodles, i realize i haven't changed much. heh. :)

it's six in the morning. wash up, dress up, make a pot of hot coffee, pour myself a cup in my favourite mug and another in my thermal mug to go. black, no sugar. make myself a toast, eggs sunny-side-up, and an apple after. read the news headlines while i eat. take a deep breath, breathing in a lung-full of coffee aroma, am ready to begin a new day.

pin drop silence, except for my breathing and footsteps. light bleaches the sky by the seconds, the air so still and chilly. vapor from my breath creates the illusion of weightlessness, the one time in a day when i don't  feel fat at all. dew drops at the tip of the leaves arouses me like a fluttering butterfly creating ripples in the pond; fluffy cotton-candy clouds holler me over i feel so light i can almost fly. birds chirping, announcing their arrival and the start of a brand new day; they remind me of my grandma's rooster she once reared in her backyard. strings of sweet memories came flowing back, memories of the good times with family replaying itself makes me smile inside. (and subsequently the yearn of returning to my home, my family, shrinks my heart, making it ache). memories do funny things to you, i tell ya.

i see people walking by, the campus slowly springs to life. by that time i'm in such good spirit i wanna shake everyone's hand and wish them all a very good morning. a song is playing in my head, and i am once again reminded about how fortunate it is to be alive. life could be so simple, yet we humans like to complicate things. as if satisfaction of life cannot be obtained unless there's a whole long list of complaints to whine about. or unless we cover ourselves in tangible blings and face-paints, walk a certain walk, talk a certain talk. everything masked, everything institutionalized. it becomes so easy to forget what's important, and what truly matters. but i guess this is the world we're living in now. i am but another puppet of Creation. one which, when life is sucked out of me, i am nothing more than a helpless, limp body. just another broken toy. but whilst i still have time before i reach my expiration date, i want to do good. i want to contribute; give back a little something instead of just receiving.