the morning so far...

My first clue was that it was still dark outside when I walked downstairs. I thought about how daylight savings time is coming up and how it'll probably be dark when I get up from now on. My next clue was that the coffee machine (which was set for 7) didn't turn on. I sighed and turned it on and put some toast in the toaster. My next clue was that my computer clock said 6:35, then my phone clock and the clock next to the stereo. I thought about when I set my alarm last night. The past two days, it's gone off at 7:20 so I wanted to set it back to 7:00. Somewhere along the way, something went wrong.

More recently, I heard my toast pop up in the kitchen. I walked into a big cloud of smoke. The toaster was set on bagel and cooked the little piece of toast to oblivion. It was so torched that it hissed when I ran water over it. So now, I've got my coffee and toast and close to an hour to kill before I have to leave for work. The project that was due today is still not complete. It's close, but not quite there. Oh well.

The house is so quiet and cold, the world so dark outside.

I dreamed about having a conversation with my dad about conception. It had something to do with how art doesn't ask to be created. A story has no say in whether or not it's creator writes it. Then I said that parents should think about that when they have children. From the moment of conception, there's life and the creator has a responsibility to it, just like when art is created. Creators should not take creation lightly. Then for some reason "John Brown's Body" got stuck in my head.

John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave, /|
John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave,
But his soul goes marching on.
Chorus:
Glory, glory, hallelujah, /|
Glory, glory, hallelujah,
His soul goes marching on.

He's gone to be a soldier in the Army of the Lord, /|
He's gone to be a soldier in the Army of the Lord,
His soul goes marching on.
Chorus:

John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back, /
John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back,
His soul goes marching on.
Chorus:

John Brown died that the slaves might be free, /
John Brown died that the slaves might be free,
His soul goes marching on.
Chorus:

The stars above in Heaven now are looking kindly down, /
The stars above in Heaven now are looking kindly down,
His soul goes marching on.