Empty minds and empty cups

A terrible day - I have no coffee or tea in the house and am at the mercy of the coffee store below me. They will charge me extra for my fix. I know this. fortunately, I have some instant coffee, and worse, instant tea (with sugar and ginger extract no less) on hand. And don't think I'm too proud to drink this synthetic drinks.

It's not a lack of pride, but economizing. Part of me wants to see how long I can survive without ill effects eating packaged goods which you add water too before eating. I know it's been done before, but I'm not out to prove anything except to save time at mealtimes so I can sit and stare into space with a soft focus while the mind moves from the feet, to the navel to the solar plexus, then to the chest, the brow and finally, the space above the head. It's all in the name of improving focus you see.

And why must I focus? A very good question with not good answers as of yet. Perhaps the best I can do at the moment is to say that there is a tract of land which shaped like a propeller blade which simply shrieks to be dug up and replanted with an assortment of plants that Vessey's is pushing onto me with large red signs screaming discounts and special offers.

Sometimes, Spring is unbearable because of the allergies and the desire to work the earth. Silly Candide, should have stuck with urban living and being fed hand and foot. I can't help it unfortunately - it's all the damn editing that I've had to do. It doesn't seem to help that I move things out of the patio, into the bin and/or the sidewalk where they're whisked away by street urchins and the like.

Emptiness of space makes me want to cover it up with greenery and red, white, pink, blue, purple, orange, yellow and shades of bronze. I'm not one for shimmery, graceful blades of grass which twist about in the wind releasing their damn seed that then pops up everywhere. No, I want green with gaudy colored flowers that attract flutterbyes and hummingbirds.

NOT, that a single hummingbird has yet come by since the last one came scouting for flowers. Ungrateful little beasts - they only take, take, take. Never give. Hrumph. Well. I will get some here yet eventually - little rutting beasts, only interested in sex and their progeny.

All these thoughts are bad for me because it makes me wonder whether I should put things into action, or let sleeping dogs lie. After all, the other part of me says that there's nothing wrong with grass as long as it's green and not too tufty, and doesn't put up wavy stalks of seed heads and the like. So what to do, what to do? Should I go with the boulevard and dig up the grass or should I go with Trey et al and follow their lead and take a nap.

You see why I need to empty my mind to match the empty cups?

life. sometimes an empty life is bliss.