i am a rhythm, i cannot die!

for a while there are things you can do to stoke the energy, to wake up, to get that snap back. stand up, move around, coffee, water, music, congas. later it becomes beer or scotch and intense concentration. you push it until you can’t. ten, twelve, fifteen, eighteen hours straight? time doesn’t really matter so much. but eventually, you use it all up. nothing you do feels good anymore. you have the will to keep working, you lean ever closer, but you can’t make sense out of the words, it takes a while. you forget what you’re doing. you start spacing out. you strain to connect thoughts that were flying around shortly after dawn just around the speed of sound. you shut off the box finally and drag yourself into the other room, contacts, brush teeth, clothes, lights, door, heat, bed, out.

and you wake up at dawn or shortly before it or somewhere around there and you get up. coffee is on your mind but your thoughts are racing. you’re already thinking of three things you are going to start up again from yesterday. you smile. you brain is fresh. you can think again. you’re boppin around, sneakers, hoodie, slap the conga. anticipate the hot, sweet, black coffee. think back to projects again as you make the coffee or grab your keys to go buy some. and so it goes. every day.

i wonder when my body finally fails and my heart and brain and bones are worn out too…will my mind still feel so live, so excited to set upon the next project? when will it be my body without me that falls down into sleep and my mind and heart no more than conga beats and coffee steam, rising up into sun?