Little Town, It's A Quiet Village

I am sitting at my window of my third story condo in the city of Jollygoodtimes, also known as heaven. I can see the waterway and the few happy people strolling along, leisurely, with dogs or significant others in hand. Behind me a sound of something delicious is simmering away on the stove and Mr. Hellegood is chasing some vivid dream, just around the corner. Outside the town is encircled by a light morning fog which further helps me to believe that we have stumbled into an unchanging, unreachable Shambhala.

It's still quiet, that early morning hush that only myself and a few others have experienced. I expect that any moment someone out there in the misty streets will begin singing our morning reveille in some sweet, ancient tongue that brings the sun bursting forth from the horizon line, where it's lain, hidden and waiting for the correct cue in the song. Our day will soon begin.



This hasn't happened yet, not for a few days at least, but I'm there already. I've been there for a few months now and I can't believe it's actually coming to this. My ever optimistic side is rolling around, nude, (if anyone cares to know) with the idea of living here, and maybe naively, thinks nothing can go wrong. However, it is my cynical side that writes better and I truly am mortified at my optimistic behavior, (i just washed those!) and am waiting, two steps back, for some god who dislikes hubris to come bearing a large wooden horse. We'll see who'll win out, I believe in the beginning my optimistic side will win the battle but in the long run, I shall win the war.

Well g'morning to you. If you're looking for me I'll be in the little town diner down the street exchanging gossip with the townsfolk.

Me.