another day another dollar

I got into work early this morning. I have already had a cup of tea. Rick even made me a cup of tea prior to my ever stepping foot out of bed. (awwwwwwww��) It is overcast outside and it appears that it will be sure to rain today.

I wish that I could get up every day and go to work and sit down and write for a living. I wish I were doing something with all of my time that felt more creative. I feel mostly like sometimes all I am doing is spoon feeding my brain with pre-determined amounts of coagulant that is supposed to somehow make me smarter, better, more worthy of some corner office somewhere. And yet I still have no real true idea about what I want to do with my life. I never have known. I�ve always had to simply survive and work somewhere at something.

I wish that my every morning started with a cup of Chai tea, the aroma�s blending throughout my thoughts, my psyche and I really wish that somehow these moments were more financially worthy to some company that would feel foolish enough to pay me for them. I wish my goal was more than a �told you so� and less than a �I need to.�

My cup is yellow
By the keys, my fingers are fed
The light is low
And the bed�s been read

My pages are movement
The notes are musical
My soul is alive
My life still dead