That imaginary switch is real?!

If I had a penny for every night that ended with hard pressed discontent...I'd be rich. The kind that turns that deeply bound, childlike craving for a sunny day into scattered showers, thunderstorms approaching. And every night, as I lay tossing and turning, I feel that sandman of slumber approach--my saving grace; silencing those rambunctious thoughts, allowing me a moment of silence, of peace, before it begins once more...

As of late I've noticed more and more the ubiquity of discontent around me. Diet books, make more money here and there, learn to come from a place of yes instead of no. Doesn't it seem that we have been doing everything wrong....FOREVER?? These books, these people, these goddamn foods are what we've been missing. As soon as we start on the path to healing, to less is more, to whatever the fuck sounds more peaceful than that shit storm in your brain. That's it, that's the answer.

It's this pleasant life that I've entrenched myself in. These pleasant thoughts are what drift about my mind when I'm walking up the stairs, ready to brush my teeth and head to bed. The bathroom mirror is unflattering. Distended belly, inflamed red spots, hair in unflattering area's-- check, unhappy and uncomfortable, unfortunately--double check.

These moments can feel like an eternity. But eventually, I make my way to bed. Tomorrow, I say, so quietly, embarrassed to be speaking in a hollow dimension of my own creation. Tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow I will eat perfectly, I will live perfectly, I will be perfect. And then it hits me. Tomorrow will be the same as every day before it. If there's one thing I have learned through all my curiosity, through all that digestion of literature, however gassy and incomplete, is that nothing is ever the way it seems. Push past the pain, toil even, while you exercise for the gold medal of health and power. Just don't forget about those stress hormones and the increased appetite that constitute the plastic center of your lustrous trophy. Truth's like these always make me wonder: why try? the more you try, the more your effort fuels destruction.

It was during this series of moments, where I lay in bed, completely aware and in touch with the room around me, just as I was becoming uncomfortable in the humidity and heat, the air conditioner began to rumble and breathe. Like some awkward silence suddenly broken. The chatter of this cooling system seemed a refreshing breeze, a perfect soundtrack of serenity.

I can't explain it, as I'm sure it doesn't make much logical sense. It was like a sudden switch. Every voice seemed to dissipate, slowly but ever so surely. As I use every day, every event, every action, as a point of reference, a piece of data to construct a more positive tomorrow. I was suddenly disengaged. Lucid, it seemed, I had become. I would surf along tomorrow; glide along the gentle, move aside the dangerous.

This language hides the reality, I feel. It's not cruising by the easy and avoiding the challenges. Rather, I mean to say its all about following my natural instincts. To handle matters that I can with grace, and approaching difficulties in the appropriate manner, with humility and acceptance of the challenge--leaving aside any added pretense. Acceptance.

I guess what I've realized is that today wasn't perfect and that's fine with me...