Strange and Wonderful

The New Year is here! I have a perennial expectation for nothing but good things at the start of a new calendar, and this year is no exception. Still, even though it lifts my spirits, it doesn't really change anything in the outside world, at least not immediately.

The sky overlooking the Port of Wilmington may be bright and beautiful for those connected to the outside world. But my inner world is filled with a gray mist. My world has been steeped in sadness since last Tuesday.

It's all Amy's fault. I refer to Princess Amy, of course. She granted me almost two weeks of unbridled boredom—a record length of time for this mood warrior to be free of anxiety. Now, today, for no discernible reason, I'm wearing a broken front tooth, and I'm sunk in depression.

I should probably admit that the tooth broke when I chomped down on an antacid tablet. Do you see why I said there was “no discernible” reason? I mean, an antacid tablet! It's not like I was chewing up the sidewalk. Try discerning that!

Before I say more, I suppose I should make it clear that I'm really blaming Amy; well, I am blaming her, aren't I? Ok, I'll just say that I've "gotten used to her face," as the old song goes. By that, I mean that I like having her around. After all, she puts up with the very worst of me, even though Ms. Wonder doesn't trail her by much. 

Today, though, I'm striving to be philosophical, or maybe poetic—perhaps even fantastical (and yes, I confirmed, that it's a word, meaning "strange and wonderful, like something out of a fantasy story," which is exactly what I aspire to write).

It's no fun being in touch with my true self. I have to look hard just to see my astral body, lying in a heap on the Riverwalk, held down by enormous wings that, on sunlit days, carry me above the clouds and put a smile on my face.

If you're thinking the Genome is having a bad morning, you're absolutely right. A bad morning isn't the half of it.

But even as I write this, I've just ordered coffee at Circular Journey Cafe, the caffeine emporium in the heights of downtown Wilmington.

Yes, I have a steaming cup of Jah’s Mercy and a Spotify playlist streaming through my earbuds, and I can feel my spirit stirring, and not in the best way. I'm actually mad as hell, and I’m not going to take it anymore! Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead! I'm breaking through the clouds and into the sunshine. I will soar above the abyss!

I think I'm beginning to tire of hearing that. If I am, then you're probably tired of it too. I'll give that some thought as I drive home.

Yes, I'm rambling. I do that sometimes when I'm looking for exactly the right words. I apologize if you find it annoying, and, after all, why shouldn't you find it annoying?

I don't know much, but I know I've had it with the familiar path. I'm going to throw myself into the chaos of the unfamiliar. Right now, I feel like a mindfleet commander, ordering my crew to run an enemy blockade.

"Amy!", I hear myself say, "direct Engineer Anxiety to rev up the hyperdrive to warp speed and make the jump to hyperspace! We're going through!"

I'll keep you updated regularly on my progress. Check back often, because I can't do this without you—you know that. Leave a comment so I'll know you were here.