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January 2021


I’ve sat all morning, trying to figure out a topic to write about. With a warm cup of coffee in my hand, staring out into a sea of trees. Into a world outside. The breeze steady, cooling. The air crisp, and warm from the sun. Leaves dancing on the branches, with every light push from the wind, the leaves dance to the music the birds sing. Every shade of green, colors the trees, as if someone delicately decided to paint the trees. Flowers blooming just outside my window, colors. Vibrant. Loud. Showing me, inviting me to go outside. 

Still undecided on a topic, a subject to write. As I stare out the window, at my screen, at my mug. A mug, a Christmas present, white on the outside, a beautiful shade of green inside, “let the adventure begin” written on the outside. My coffee is black, like black black. I like to drink it plain. I like the bitterness that coffee leaves on my tongue. The bold color, taste, smell. Caffeinated. Helps my mind flow faster, smoother. Concentration. Awake.

To the left of me and my laptop, is a photo in a green photo frame. The frame, another gift given to me years ago from an old friend. Friends. Friendship. Relationships. I’ve made so many friends throughout my life. Many who have stayed in my life, friends I’ve known my whole life, have lost communication with at some point in time, but have always stayed present in my life. Friends, I talk to almost every week, friends who were present in my life daily, but have fallen back physically, away, because, of time, life. I’ve never held any anger towards the friends who have closed communications, I’ve felt confusion, wondered, but never anger. I am thankful for the new friends I continue to make, the friends who are still in my life, the friends I’ve been able to reunite via social media, friends I’ve been able to rebuild broken communications with. And my homies who never left. My ride or dies. 


To the right of me I have a candle burning. A candle I light every morning, a candle I give my thanks to. Thank you for another day. For the roof over my head, the breath I have. The candle, another Christmas gift. The smell of spice and wood. Earthy. 


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