Waiting for Tommorrow

The problem with waiting for tomorrow is that it swallows up today. Sometimes it feels good to have a pity party but we notice, eventually that no-one comes.

Seizing the day sounds delightful, but doesn't always attract a crowd. Attacking it on our own isn't always as inviting, kind of like giving a speech or telling a joke when there is no audience. You miss the laughter, or the response and find yourself in the dark.

While the dark is nice, we start to miss the light and need to venture out into the universe, and find our audience. While quiet is nice, it starts to fester after a while. You start to get tired of listening to your own thoughts or voices. The answers become questions and we realize we just might need a second opinion or at least a second cup of coffee.

So we venture off to the nearest coffee shop to get caffeine and social contact and wonder what the answer really is. After the first couple cups of coffee and consciousness starts to reappear. We remember passion and that it isn't all about us, and that embracing life and the moment really isn't a bunch of rhetoric, because today is what we have before it becomes tomorrow, and maybe that person standing beside us is an angel with no wings, or maybe we are supposed to be that angel. Because it does matter. That smile that we see on someone's face, or that we put there, for someone else. It really does matter.

Julzzz R