Today is another coffee-free day. I’m not sure why I feel the need to report continuously on my caffeinated state. I think it’s like the weather, an innocent statement to start the conversation, or at least explain why my writing is short or bad (not that my writing is ever short or bad).

As part of NEQID, I’ve been thinking a lot about concentration. Even as those words left my fingers, I felt the pulls of distraction, as if someone tied a rope to my . . . okay, I’ll spare you that imagery . . . and forced me to click Internet Explorer and romp through the blogosphere. For all their talk about content written by millions, there’s rarely anything good on.

My stomach’s imagination runs rampant. Who rises in the evening to understand its gurgling? Its anger streaks across unknown landscapes and I wonder if I ever knew its brethren. Clarity of mind hides and thoughts of a family of cows raised without a bull haunt me. Succor.

Wires send signals over wireless avenues. Sleep waits for me but when I join up with her, she laughs and waves me off. What do you think you’re doing here, she’ll ask, a brightness covering her smile. I’m trying to sleep, I’ll respond, as if my answer is not obvious to an incarnation. You are not ready for sleep. You have yet to accomplish much, she will say. I’ll nod in disagreement but she’ll regard my statement and dance off to pester other wild flowers.

Say what you will about closed eyes, but they tell you much about the insights of kindness. Forgiveness is a virtue of those comfortable in their own skin with their own ideals about what the perfect person is, and can forgive those who fail to reach those exalted heights. For one of the steps up is to look down and forgive all that are below. How else can you achieve bliss?