Goodness

Somebody That I Used To Know plays on the speaker. It's 6:00 a.m., an hour ago I woke up and turned on the pink and purple neon signs that light up the corner of my room. It never escapes me how lucky I am and though I don't believe in Jesus or God sometimes I privately, quietly thank them.

I pick through memories and scrap the ones that don't serve me. This autumn, I peel down the canvas that Sesame gave me in 2018, the year he died. Change has never scared me. I write the start times of my diner job on my calendar and it's filled with permanent black marker numbers that make me proud when I look at it.

I can't help but think of all the things in life which are good now. Mostly everything looks good, including plums with their red and purple skins and coffee which I drink black because I don't like milk. I sleep and I eat like other people and I'm not running away from my problems. Instead I face them head-on with some kind of slick half-smile on my face, calculating solutions in my head already.