I woke up, pre-dawn, with the words: "endless summer" in my consciousness. I actually spoke the words out loud. Not gonna happen. It's late August, and there is a cool breeze coming through the screen of the window. Still dark. Quiet. Early morning, very early. You can feel the "death of summer" in the air.
I had to get up. Can't lay in bed just thinking. I always feel too vulnerable. Too many colliding thoughts. Better to get up, brew the coffee, get the day started. Time. Slipping. Floating. Ticking away. How many mornings? How many cups of coffee? How long does this go on?
There is no "endless" anything. Everything is slipping away, ticking down. I hear on the radio that the Rainforest is on fire in Brazil. The rainforest provides 20% of all the oxygen on the planet. A pretty important living being going up in flames. Who will care for the Rainforest?
Will we all cook & choke on our own stupidity? How are we, as a species, gonna make it? "Endless Summer." It's sort of like "Holy Grail," or "El Dorado," or the Land of OZ. We don't live in OZ. We live in Kansas. A lot more homebred, homely, hard. Dirt. Plain. Human.
This is no Utopia. Sometimes it's Hell. Hell on Earth. A hell of our own making. If Humans have a problem, most likely it's a human-made problem. Of course, nature is a hard mother. DNA. Flesh and bone. Everything goes obsolete. Kind of built into the design. Nothing is endless.
What to do? Type these words. That's a start. Get ready for another day. See what the carnival brings today. There's always something going down. Surf's up!