I stare through the window by my desk which faces the street and into the rain which I can’t see but can hear and it sounds like a white noise playlist on Spotify.
I stare through the window by my desk which faces the street and into the rain and now I see the rain underneath the street light at the corner. I think oooh that’s a metaphor. How only light illuminates the hidden natural beauty. Or something. How it takes so much energy to illuminate the good, so much luminal power. Or something.
I stare through the window and imagine myself as an iPhone 6 with completely re-wired software so the only thing I’m capable of is displaying a gif of a lake tide coming in, like after a boat just went by, or a lake like Lake Superior that’s big enough to generate it's own tides so it doesn’t need boats. I stare and imagine myself as this iPhone lake gif that's smooth not jittery and epileptic. I stare and imagine I’m an IPhone only capable of playing this one gif so I mean there’s no apps or functional buttons or power on or power off.... just one purpose, not possible to check texts, or notifications or weather or Facebook or Gmail or Spotify....
I stare through the window and a car pulls up to the house across the street whose yard is littered with diapers and styrofoam to-go containers and tires. It’s dark so I don’t see what kind of car and I don't see the yard trash but I know from previous days and weeks and months and even thought it's dark I see the red tail lights and even though it’s shhhhhhhh raining like muted white noise I hear the brakes squeak and then I see someone get out and walk up to the house and knock because I see the illuminated square of their phone moving and I know that doesn’t happen without someone holding it. And then I hear this person knock and knock again but this time louder and I hear him say hey and then I hear him say hey again but this time louder and I hear him clearly even over the shhh of the rain because I opened the front door ten minutes ago before it started raining because it’s 64 degrees in the house and that’s too warm for sleeping with two blankets and wool socks and a sweatshirt and a hood like normal. Anyway it got so warm last night. All of a sudden. I won’t say anything cheeky about climate change because I’m sick of people saying cheeky things about topics they don’t know a damn thing about. But anyway this guy, it sounds like a guy, but I can’t be sure, I’d say 70/30, yells even louder HEY and his voice carries through my front door and hits my hear drums and my ear drums are angry because it’s only 6:03AM and the baby is sleeping and Kate is sleeping and this is my writing time and he’s disturbing it already by yelling at 6:03 AM in the morning across the street from my writing desk and if he further interrupts it by waking up Kate and the baby, that will be very upsetting and so I think about standing up and going to our open front door and yelling something that starts with fuck but I second-guess myself and think about how rude that sounds and so I think about what I should say and decide maybe yelling hey it’s 6am people are sleeping is a more reasonable approach. Before I can stand up he yells one more time and it slurs together probably because of the rain and the distance and I can’t tell what he’s saying but it’s making me warm in my throat and jaw and I think violent thoughts and violent words and then the door across the street opens and he stops yelling and then the lights in the house across the street turn on and then the door across the street closes and there is silence, just the shhhhhh of the rain.
I stare through the window by my desk which faces the street and think about what metaphysical truth or pink little bow I might be able to wrap around this morning rain story and I think of nothing and instead keep staring and my thoughts are wet and my heart rate is still high and sipping coffee is probably going to keep it that way until I reach into my front right pocket and wrap my fingers around three clear pills and the three cream colored pills, which are for stress and immunity, respectively. The clear ones for stress are called Tulsi and they are supposed to lower cortisol or something and the cream ones are L-Lysine mixed with garlic and echinacea and other stuff that’s supposed to keep you from getting sick.
I stare through the window by my desk and wonder what my pink bow is. I wonder whether leaving it out means I’ve done a bad job this morning or whether it means I’ve just written what I’ve seen and thought and whether that qualifies as a good job.
I stare through the window by my desk and wonder if I’m hoping for a pink bow in other areas of my life as well.
I stop staring through the window and pick up the orange mug that came with the water filtration system and sip the hot but not too hot coffee swirled with pea milk and coconut oil. I unzip the front right pocket to my Adidas Tiro 15 pants and gather the pills in my fingers and I put them to my mouth so that my whole palm covers my mouth like someone who’s been suddenly been scared or surprised and I feel the case of the lear pills dissolve and I feel the hard edges of the cream ones get softer and then I swallow and I imagine myself getting healthier and more relaxed.
>>>A QUITE WHISPER NOTE TO THE RAINY DAY READER I’m coming to the conclusion that everyone you meet, or bump into, or sit next to, or randomly think of while boiling 6:05AM-water for coffee ....all these people need you. Not like you met them for a divine purpose, but like we ALL need each other, we ALL need as much wind in our sails as the spinning globe can muster. This, we, it ….. is all connected. You know what I mean. Hopefully The Alt Dad Diary posts nudge your ever-evolving atomic mass in a beneficial way. If so, nudge me back. You can support me and my diary project and what it means to tell the naked truth in a long-form format. Aka more more more than just cute cat click bait. Check out patreon.com/altdaddiary for details. AND in the likely event that clicking the link is too tediously overwhelming, I’m the same way so I feel ya. So just know that even supporting The Diary with $1/month is MIND BLOWINGLY HUGE. Why because think about how sustainable that contribution is in the aggregate.
Okay deuces until tomorrow. Love peace harmony and enjoy staring at the rain.