Ten.Two Hundred & Eighty-Nine

1.  Rain against the window. There is no light today.

2. My dreams were not lucid but I did start and stop, continually asking myself "Is this a dream?"

3. Granola with flax milk, blackberries, walnuts, and dried cranberries in the blue ceramic bowl that feels like California. 

4. Cut the back out of the chicken, sprinkle liberally with Kosher salt before placing it back in the fridge for a dry brine. Fold 6 baskets of laundry. Feed them lunch. 

5. The sky is still low and dark and every now and then I hear the sound of rain against the window. The basketball hoop has wiggled itself to the middle of the driveway again. 

6. Rest. 

7. I watch most of the performance at my computer in the basement, chin cupped in my palms.

8. I take notes. Pyramids, Nefertiti, yellow and black and white, purple, black fist, black panther, a honey bee.

9. I think of money and power and status. I think about the ills of capitalism but how participation in it grants you the ability to also subvert it in subtle and sometimes grand ways. How do we work within the current systems to effect the most change? Is it wrong to be paid to perform at a concert that is put on by a racist if some of the money you earn from that performance goes to pay for lawyers or bail out Black Lives Matter protesters or to rebuild homes in low-income neighborhoods ravaged by Hurricane Harvey? 

10. It's getting close.