This morning I awoke refreshed from a night’s sleep filled with dreams of beautiful people doing beautiful things.

As my feet hit the floor nothing seemed to ache or complain about the pressure of gravity.

My walk to the bathroom was illuminated by the early morning light peeking around the corner of the blackout curtain pushed aside by a nosey cat.

Unlike most men, I sit down to pee, because I’m not in a hurry and it’s easier to close my eyes to allow the dream visions to dance in my minds eye.

A slow march down the stairs, guided by the cat who knows that his wet food breakfast is on the way, my eyes and ears scan the house for sights and sounds of the world outside seeping in, and the occurrences of feline movement while I was deep in slumber.

Once in the kitchen, the first bit of artificial light stuns my eyes and somehow reminds me that it’s Sunday, the most depressing day of the week.

It is then that my iPhone awakens on the charger to tell me that the fucked up world we live in still exists and that the beauty school drop out JD Vance has yet again gnawed at the strings tied to the balloons of logic and reason, releasing them into the atmosphere where they will expand and explode to be carried away on high altitude winds, far away from the people who needed to hear and understand them.

Fuck, I’m awake, and very little has changed… stuck in this timeline’s repetitive loop. Fuck!