Morning Reports


Jan 4: Done

Alex is up and being a normal 10 year old overcoming a stomach bug: loudly singing and gesturing imaginary adventures whilst he downs his mandatory yogurt and periodically runs to the toilet.

I am extremely tempted to go back to bed and doze off for 1hr or 2. It wasn’t difficult to wake up but now sleep nostalgia is very real… and I can’t really shower a second time to counteract morpheus’ uber cozy embrace.

I’m afraid I will have to resort to the most extreme measure: I’m going to have to DO stuff 😱

Earlier today, with the uninspiring sight of my dog peeing around frantically in my street, I was flooded with jaded reflexions on life on earth.

As the dog chased his hormonal dragon, rushing from tree to tree to compulsively smell the intoxicating scent of a nearby bitch in heat, I wondered how much of that crap affected us as humans.

The dog’s desperation looked ridiculous but there was something awe-inspiring about how powerful that chemical rush was. Insert unoriginal thoughts about the servitude of pleasure, and the meaning of life and freedom.

Now I remember that Alex asked me yesterday what the meaning of life was… I don’t think it’d be too far off to answer: learning how to turn the pull of pleasure into a freedom exercise (Epicureans to cheer enthusiastically).

But I like this answer better, and it includes the latter lesson: the meaning of life is to not be dead yet.




Time was starting to get out of hand. So I entered an easy challenge with my brother: getting our lazy bones out of bed by 7am for 30 days, to reclaim mornings and rein in our unproductive minds. These are my daily raw reports. No edits, no directions, 100% free-range ramblings.

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Writing as a reality test to check if I’m still alive. It usually works. I thought I’d share the experience :)

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