Can someone please turn the sun shine off? It was shining directly in my eyes this morning as I rolled over and groaned. I couldn’t get up yet, my cocoon was cozy. I laid there for a few minutes in an uncaffinated state waiting for the bouncy pop music to roar through my alarm clock. After ten minutes of labored breathing I pulled the sheets off my face and came to the abrupt realization my blind was open. The light shining through was artificial. It was too late, my mind had already begun to sporadically plan the day. I turned my head to the alarm clock, 4:00 a.m.? I spent the next hour fighting myself butting my head under the sheets, arms and legs flailing to stay under rest lock down. Then I fought it angrily before throwing in the towel and grabbing my laptop. If I was awake, I was going to humor myself and leave funny messages for people. I did just that for a mere hour laughing myself awake. Sorry ‘bout that but there is no prestige when you’re on myspace.

Pure light finds its way into my bedroom as I hastily toss my legs over the side of the bed and latch on to the fact that it’s still to early to be productive. I’m out the door in ten minutes flat droning to the sounds of my IPOD aimed towards Fourbucks when it hits me like a like a meteor crashing into Earth. There’s dew on the grass, a pink and blue sky and the crisp smell of freshly mowed grass on an expressively crisp morning. Hello Spring.

Inside the coffee shop I glance around inherently aware how everyone is pretending not to be checking each other out. There is a feeling that we are, at least at this point in time, we are all important and on our way somewhere and something big is happening here. Are we all riding a tidal wave balancing on the board cautious not to fall and be perceived as we don’t want to be? We can’t let on that we are a part of a scene, or any scene. We begin to perfect a balance between being close to where things are happening, knowing the people involved and their patterns, while keeping our distance, an outsider’s mentality, even among other outsiders. We sing songs of following our dreams and being true to ourselves while lying to the world and shielding that sometimes we hurt. And you know what ‘Miss Excuse Me Can I Please Talk To Jess ;-)’ I’m learning, and so are you, that we can’t always be the heart pumping blood to everyone. Somedays being strong - means letting your guard down.

I toss my disposable coffee cup in the trash, raise my earphones, click on, and continue running down the shaded path.