l3db3tt3r
05-01-2010, 06:03 AM
I would love to hear some feedback!
[Untitled]
by
Aaron Ledbetter
Do you know the various noises of a cell phone? There are ones that ring, buzz, beep, and chirp. I have a particular one set as my morning alarm. The sound it makes, it boarders on the wail of an emergency siren. It is a haines shriek. It pierces your ears, and drills into your dreams. It goes off in short regular intervals. To turn it off, my average time is one ring, I hit the right button combo or on extremely rare occasions the snooze. I can't stand the noise it produces, to allow it to disturb me again is unthinkable. The efficiency at interrupting my slumber and motivating me to get up is unmatched. My entire being's disgust for it has even trained my body to wake just moments before its scheduled disturbance...
05:59, is what my phone's clock reads. The colon separating the hours and minutes is flashing the seconds away as my eyes adjust, and the recollection of what I am looking at and it's meaning seeps in. The day is early, and not yet bright. 06:00 hits and the piercing shrill of the alarm goes off before I can manage to preemptively catch it. The noise of the alarm lingers in my ears- even when being so quick to hit the alarm. I do not want the noise to drill deep into my dreams and pierce them. I prefer to ride my dreams and lucid state through the morning rituals. It makes the repetitiveness of my mornings bearable. Like a functional alcoholic, I'm a functional morning person
Today, I'm going to get up and get some physical activity. Still half asleep I manage to prowl through a dimly lit room and dress myself. I do prowl, unlike a drunk, I rarely stumble awkwardly in the dark. It is part of my morning routine, no lights and no noise. Nothing obtrusive to shatter my dreams. I simply wake, urinate and dress to start this morning. No reason to do any other morning chores yet.
I exit my slumbering quarters and start a slow jogging pace to warm up as I head down the street. It is a more or less typical morning. The sun has yet to even show it's rays, but the night is slowly creeping away as the dark turns to light in hues of blue and gray. The morning is crisp and a hair colder then cool. My breath shows, but just a whisper. At this point I'm still partially lucid in my dream world, consciously wrapping up, and recapping the better parts of my dreams. Slowly the conscious world around me will unfold before me.
I first notice the morning chill, as I have not yet warmed up from my jogging, and in realization I pick up the pace. Next thing to slide into my lucidness is the sounds of morning birds. Their morning songs seem to hypnotize me, and I become aware of a cadence that my feet began to fallow. Like a train, my breath begins to turnover with my feet. A steady, strong pace unfolds.
I push the pace, and my body, harder. Today is a short run, and will be at most 15 minutes long. Easily a bit more then 2 miles, and to get the most of it I want to extend myself. My route takes me down a paved trail by a river. Half way I cross a foot bridge, a decorative concrete and steal monument of the city reclaiming it's parks, and I double back on the opposite side of the river. I finish my run, but not my workout. I make for a water fountain and grab a quick sip of water as I eye my surroundings. I have to make due with the resources I have, and I see a kids playground- particularly the monkey bars. Perfect! I trot over and begin the second part of my work out, strength training, with wide arm over hand pull-ups. I throw in some air-squats, push-ups, v-ups, and “box jumps” onto a tire berried in the sand, and I make a circuit of it.
I keep a wicked intensity and after five rotations I am spent. I collapse on a near by picnic table. I close my eyes and steady my breath. My heart rate slows. I focus myself into the moment, and calm myself. This is a Zen moment. I am a junkie for post workout endorphins. Time passes. I can feel my face warm, and I open my eyes. The sun has peaked across the river, and through the trees a ray has found me. My face is overcome with a smile. The colors around me have become orange and cherry with the added light. Before the moment can leave me, I leave it. I start home.
On my way, I move with unknown purpose. It is only a hop and a skip back to where I started my day. I pause momentarily at the curb just short of going inside to stretch my calf muscles, lunge, and to pull a few other stretches to keep my body loose. All for the sake of preventing injury and extending flexibility they say- I just think it feels good.
As I enter this place, I move strait to the shower, stripping my clothes as I go. Tossing my clothes haphazardly into a general location that is loosely designated, and conducive, for my sweaty clothes to dry. Although my breath and heart rate have recovered my body is still sweating. I briefly pause in front of the mirror and mentally note my stature. My body naked, I stand poised and feel confident. My skin taught from the cold and my sweat glistens over my freshly amped muscles. I would say I'm of average build, and beginning to appear to have the bulk and mark of true athleticism. Progress.
I enter the cramped shower, and move to turn on the water. It paraids into my face. I tense and shiver briefly as the first wave of water is down right frigged, but the moment and feeling is abruptly lost as the the lukewarm water flows down my body. I lower my chin and allow the spray to rinse my hair. The water is cooling for my physically tuned body-core temperature. The feeling is welcome and very pleasant, but I do not linger. I grab the shampoo and lather my short hair, move to my armpits, then to my groin, and finally to my feet. Head to toe, rinsing my hands between each, getting a new batch of suds from my hair. Efficiency. I rinse quickly with assistance from my hands, and then kick the water off with my foot. Time, no longer then 7 minutes. I run my hands over my head and down my skin like a squeegee, removing excess water, before I grab my towel. I towel off only slightly, and place the towel around my waist. The evaporation of water from my skin is cooling and feels cleansing and all together wonderful. It briefly occurs to me that I may still be sweating slightly and not bothered by it I step from the shower and move to the mirror and sink.
Routines. Post shower and my skin and facial hair is soft. I grab for my clippers and remove the previous day's growth of hair from my under-chin and jaw line. I'm lucky to have light hair, and I forgo using a razor for day to day occasions. I rinse the little hairs from my face and clippers in the sink. I then grab some aftershave face wash and lather my face with it, plying the silk-suds into my pours with small circles from my fingers. I thoroughly rinse my hands and then my face. I lightly dry my face with a hand towel.
On to the next morning chore, I grab my blue toothbrush. For as long as I can remember I have always used a blue toothbrush. I add some tooth whitening paste and apply brush to mouth. I spit. I rinse. All the while I stare at my blue eyes in the mirror. I grin- half smile, thinking handsome devil.
I finish drying, and make snap decisions on what to wear. I put on another pair of my favorite black, long cut, boxer brief, underwear. I talk openly and brag about these underwear. You should get these underwear- Nay, You need these underwear. They are made of a light weight mesh synthetic materials. The kind that fight odors, keep dry, don't stretch out, bunch up, or loose their fit. Even when worn weeks on end, (I have had the unpleasant pleasure of proving this) and should the chance then ever present itself, they wash and dry quick and easily in a bathroom sink, immediately ready for more abuse. I have found trust in these underwear. They have not let me down.
I hunt for a matching set of clean socks. I wish I could find socks that devote as much pride in me as my underwear. I wear anklets, short light socks that barely touch the base of my ankle. Color: Black. Found. And a matching set! I generally only buy one type and brand of sock, and when I say matching set, I mean the wear and tear on them is the same. I tend to go for the “newer” pairs. If I could afford to wear a new pair of socks everyday, I would, and if I ever happen upon a genie, consider it one of my three wishes.
I put on a pair of slim, athletic cut, cargo pants, also made of some synthetic material, Rip-stop, and in a dark color of tan, almost gray. I fasten up a web-belt through the belt-loops.
I certainly have stopped sweating but I'm still cooling down. Before I adorn a t-shirt I prance into the bathroom. I grab and apply some deodorant. It has a smell that is of pine and sage. It lingers a little with rich hues and then pleasantly subsides to a sapling like sweetness- Think mid-summer, not Christmas. I can easily find a clean plain t-shirt, it too is dark in color. The idea behind the colors is that it makes laundry a hell of a lot easier- no separating, no multiple loads, and easy to match. Efficiency.
I slip on my shoes, light hikers in this case and I am ready for my last routine. To reload my pant pockets. It is a ritual, and a quick method of inventory. Billfold, with ID and ATM/Credit Cards all held together by a mini black binder clip. Minimalist. I place mine in my back right pocket. A thin mini-moleskin notebook with a few miscellaneous used and unused index cards in the sleeve is usually placed in my back left pocket, but today it goes into my left cargo pocket. Pocket knife, clips to the outside of my front right pocket. Steal barreled fine-ball-point pen clips right next to it. My keys and random change also accompany this pocket. Left front pocket I carry a USB data-key, and my cell phone. And lastly, for today, I'm carrying a small point and shoot digital camera, protected by a fitted neoprene case, in my right cargo pocket.
I go to the door and place my hand on the handle. I hesitate. I turn my head about, and look around, thinking, remembering, reminding. Satisfied, I turn and make my exit.
[Untitled]
by
Aaron Ledbetter
Do you know the various noises of a cell phone? There are ones that ring, buzz, beep, and chirp. I have a particular one set as my morning alarm. The sound it makes, it boarders on the wail of an emergency siren. It is a haines shriek. It pierces your ears, and drills into your dreams. It goes off in short regular intervals. To turn it off, my average time is one ring, I hit the right button combo or on extremely rare occasions the snooze. I can't stand the noise it produces, to allow it to disturb me again is unthinkable. The efficiency at interrupting my slumber and motivating me to get up is unmatched. My entire being's disgust for it has even trained my body to wake just moments before its scheduled disturbance...
05:59, is what my phone's clock reads. The colon separating the hours and minutes is flashing the seconds away as my eyes adjust, and the recollection of what I am looking at and it's meaning seeps in. The day is early, and not yet bright. 06:00 hits and the piercing shrill of the alarm goes off before I can manage to preemptively catch it. The noise of the alarm lingers in my ears- even when being so quick to hit the alarm. I do not want the noise to drill deep into my dreams and pierce them. I prefer to ride my dreams and lucid state through the morning rituals. It makes the repetitiveness of my mornings bearable. Like a functional alcoholic, I'm a functional morning person
Today, I'm going to get up and get some physical activity. Still half asleep I manage to prowl through a dimly lit room and dress myself. I do prowl, unlike a drunk, I rarely stumble awkwardly in the dark. It is part of my morning routine, no lights and no noise. Nothing obtrusive to shatter my dreams. I simply wake, urinate and dress to start this morning. No reason to do any other morning chores yet.
I exit my slumbering quarters and start a slow jogging pace to warm up as I head down the street. It is a more or less typical morning. The sun has yet to even show it's rays, but the night is slowly creeping away as the dark turns to light in hues of blue and gray. The morning is crisp and a hair colder then cool. My breath shows, but just a whisper. At this point I'm still partially lucid in my dream world, consciously wrapping up, and recapping the better parts of my dreams. Slowly the conscious world around me will unfold before me.
I first notice the morning chill, as I have not yet warmed up from my jogging, and in realization I pick up the pace. Next thing to slide into my lucidness is the sounds of morning birds. Their morning songs seem to hypnotize me, and I become aware of a cadence that my feet began to fallow. Like a train, my breath begins to turnover with my feet. A steady, strong pace unfolds.
I push the pace, and my body, harder. Today is a short run, and will be at most 15 minutes long. Easily a bit more then 2 miles, and to get the most of it I want to extend myself. My route takes me down a paved trail by a river. Half way I cross a foot bridge, a decorative concrete and steal monument of the city reclaiming it's parks, and I double back on the opposite side of the river. I finish my run, but not my workout. I make for a water fountain and grab a quick sip of water as I eye my surroundings. I have to make due with the resources I have, and I see a kids playground- particularly the monkey bars. Perfect! I trot over and begin the second part of my work out, strength training, with wide arm over hand pull-ups. I throw in some air-squats, push-ups, v-ups, and “box jumps” onto a tire berried in the sand, and I make a circuit of it.
I keep a wicked intensity and after five rotations I am spent. I collapse on a near by picnic table. I close my eyes and steady my breath. My heart rate slows. I focus myself into the moment, and calm myself. This is a Zen moment. I am a junkie for post workout endorphins. Time passes. I can feel my face warm, and I open my eyes. The sun has peaked across the river, and through the trees a ray has found me. My face is overcome with a smile. The colors around me have become orange and cherry with the added light. Before the moment can leave me, I leave it. I start home.
On my way, I move with unknown purpose. It is only a hop and a skip back to where I started my day. I pause momentarily at the curb just short of going inside to stretch my calf muscles, lunge, and to pull a few other stretches to keep my body loose. All for the sake of preventing injury and extending flexibility they say- I just think it feels good.
As I enter this place, I move strait to the shower, stripping my clothes as I go. Tossing my clothes haphazardly into a general location that is loosely designated, and conducive, for my sweaty clothes to dry. Although my breath and heart rate have recovered my body is still sweating. I briefly pause in front of the mirror and mentally note my stature. My body naked, I stand poised and feel confident. My skin taught from the cold and my sweat glistens over my freshly amped muscles. I would say I'm of average build, and beginning to appear to have the bulk and mark of true athleticism. Progress.
I enter the cramped shower, and move to turn on the water. It paraids into my face. I tense and shiver briefly as the first wave of water is down right frigged, but the moment and feeling is abruptly lost as the the lukewarm water flows down my body. I lower my chin and allow the spray to rinse my hair. The water is cooling for my physically tuned body-core temperature. The feeling is welcome and very pleasant, but I do not linger. I grab the shampoo and lather my short hair, move to my armpits, then to my groin, and finally to my feet. Head to toe, rinsing my hands between each, getting a new batch of suds from my hair. Efficiency. I rinse quickly with assistance from my hands, and then kick the water off with my foot. Time, no longer then 7 minutes. I run my hands over my head and down my skin like a squeegee, removing excess water, before I grab my towel. I towel off only slightly, and place the towel around my waist. The evaporation of water from my skin is cooling and feels cleansing and all together wonderful. It briefly occurs to me that I may still be sweating slightly and not bothered by it I step from the shower and move to the mirror and sink.
Routines. Post shower and my skin and facial hair is soft. I grab for my clippers and remove the previous day's growth of hair from my under-chin and jaw line. I'm lucky to have light hair, and I forgo using a razor for day to day occasions. I rinse the little hairs from my face and clippers in the sink. I then grab some aftershave face wash and lather my face with it, plying the silk-suds into my pours with small circles from my fingers. I thoroughly rinse my hands and then my face. I lightly dry my face with a hand towel.
On to the next morning chore, I grab my blue toothbrush. For as long as I can remember I have always used a blue toothbrush. I add some tooth whitening paste and apply brush to mouth. I spit. I rinse. All the while I stare at my blue eyes in the mirror. I grin- half smile, thinking handsome devil.
I finish drying, and make snap decisions on what to wear. I put on another pair of my favorite black, long cut, boxer brief, underwear. I talk openly and brag about these underwear. You should get these underwear- Nay, You need these underwear. They are made of a light weight mesh synthetic materials. The kind that fight odors, keep dry, don't stretch out, bunch up, or loose their fit. Even when worn weeks on end, (I have had the unpleasant pleasure of proving this) and should the chance then ever present itself, they wash and dry quick and easily in a bathroom sink, immediately ready for more abuse. I have found trust in these underwear. They have not let me down.
I hunt for a matching set of clean socks. I wish I could find socks that devote as much pride in me as my underwear. I wear anklets, short light socks that barely touch the base of my ankle. Color: Black. Found. And a matching set! I generally only buy one type and brand of sock, and when I say matching set, I mean the wear and tear on them is the same. I tend to go for the “newer” pairs. If I could afford to wear a new pair of socks everyday, I would, and if I ever happen upon a genie, consider it one of my three wishes.
I put on a pair of slim, athletic cut, cargo pants, also made of some synthetic material, Rip-stop, and in a dark color of tan, almost gray. I fasten up a web-belt through the belt-loops.
I certainly have stopped sweating but I'm still cooling down. Before I adorn a t-shirt I prance into the bathroom. I grab and apply some deodorant. It has a smell that is of pine and sage. It lingers a little with rich hues and then pleasantly subsides to a sapling like sweetness- Think mid-summer, not Christmas. I can easily find a clean plain t-shirt, it too is dark in color. The idea behind the colors is that it makes laundry a hell of a lot easier- no separating, no multiple loads, and easy to match. Efficiency.
I slip on my shoes, light hikers in this case and I am ready for my last routine. To reload my pant pockets. It is a ritual, and a quick method of inventory. Billfold, with ID and ATM/Credit Cards all held together by a mini black binder clip. Minimalist. I place mine in my back right pocket. A thin mini-moleskin notebook with a few miscellaneous used and unused index cards in the sleeve is usually placed in my back left pocket, but today it goes into my left cargo pocket. Pocket knife, clips to the outside of my front right pocket. Steal barreled fine-ball-point pen clips right next to it. My keys and random change also accompany this pocket. Left front pocket I carry a USB data-key, and my cell phone. And lastly, for today, I'm carrying a small point and shoot digital camera, protected by a fitted neoprene case, in my right cargo pocket.
I go to the door and place my hand on the handle. I hesitate. I turn my head about, and look around, thinking, remembering, reminding. Satisfied, I turn and make my exit.