Monday, February 06, 2012

The second breath

I can't sleep here; my life is a mess. Lying in bed every night so far at 5 am wired to all hell. Before I got to San Francisco I was sleeping; I need my sleep in San Francisco. I wake up into headache and gloom, but then somehow on the fire escape something shifts -- this is the second time today of the fire escape, and I'm doing my morning meditation scanning the horizon away from the sun, which means towards the wall of this building and there’s that brick building next door, all the colors of red and gray and black and putty, turn more and the blue sky, that triangular shadow I remember from my other view, the one from my apartment before and then back across the wall of this building, sunny shadows of fire escape ladder and maybe the air is okay, soft even if it still smells like fabric softener on the second breath.

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