What would I like today? A little bit of honesty, but often that seems impossible, so a black coffee would do. One is simple and easy, and the other requires a succession of specific steps and everything done exactly right. It is the easiest thing, to be honest, and yet, rarer than a four-leaf clover, rarer than the full moon even, seen only once a month or so. But today is not a day to worry about such things. Today, I feel lighter than a feather because no lies bog me down. It occurred to me today when I woke up, made my bed, and walked out onto the balcony to take a breath and a moment: such a beautiful life and such a beautiful day in it. I stood there like how you often do when there is not a thought on your mind. My life now is filled with complete honesty in all things I am and do. There is no place for anything phoney now. I refuse to tolerate it; I refuse to let it in. Like a tollbooth or an immigration check where the attendant is comically strict, anything inauthentic is rejected outright; there is no space for it, not even an inch, not anymore.
There is little else to think or worry about. I plan to meet many people today, so I must get ready and leave immediately. It is something I cannot explain, however. This lightness, this happiness, this general state of joy. The other day, a waft of worry floated into my day, and for a second, I could not see what was wrong. Then, I immediately flipped the windows wide open, and it flew away as quietly as it had arrived. There seldom are things to worry about. Most situations need only patience, for us to stand our ground as truthfully as we can. Then, they pass, and before you know it, many years pass, and every memory of them becomes a memory so distant that you cannot place why you were so worried anyway.
And now, I must close this piece at an anticlimactic end. Time is running out, and I have a day to spend in a life, the story of which I would not change even if ever given the chance.