Musings Born of Exhaustion And Too Much Sugar.

Once again, I have risen from internal darkness to witness the death of another night and the birth of another day, one teeming with potential.

Truth be told, I could be a hero of the day, or a pathetic fool. The choice, as always, is entirely mine.

And to be brutally honest, it is far too early for such ponderings; my body cries out for rest but its pleas must be ignored in favor of fulfilling my role in a scheme far grander than any my mind could ever conceive of.  I am but a humble servant to millions of travelers whose faces quickly become a blur in my memory. 

To them, I am a ghost. A figure in the corner of their eyes. An anonymous minion whose sole purpose is to ferry their belongings through the labyrinth that is a grand hotel.

But spare me your pity, my friends.

My anonymity is a gift from Mistress Fate, one I use to its fullest advantage.

“Watch out for the quiet ones.” A lesson I remember well from my childhood. “Don’t eat the yellow snow.”, was another that springs to mind.

(The Seventies were weird.)

But I digress, as I am prone to do – you cannot fight your nature, kids – and so we must return to form, by examining the travels of a stranger, one of many. 

A man, his step ragged and labored, wanders past my desk. His face speaks volumes; he rubs his bloodshot eyes and seeks to rejoin the land of the living.

But it is not to be.

His body remains under the thrall of Morpheus. He is plagued by dreams, or perhaps the same seemingly-endless dream, who can say for certain? 

He rests his body against the stone walls outside as his weathered hands, calloused form a lifetime of labor, fumble in pockets. Soon, a metallic fire-starter emerges and a man made death stick is set ablaze. He draws a long breath in and within a moment, exhales white smoke. He stares into the cloud as it quickly disperses.

What does he see? 

Friends vanished and gone?

A lifetime wasted?

I can only speculate.

His thoughts are his own. I am but a ghost in the corner of his eye. A voyeur. A watcher. And now it its time to assume my duties and retrieve the belongings of yet another group of travelers.

And so I bid you farewell. For now, at least.

We shall meet again, in the brief lifetime of yet another day.

As for this day, I beseech you, my friends, live it well. Make it worthy of the halls of mankind’s collective memory.

Do that for me, won’t you?

About The Hook

Husband. Father. Bellman. Author of The Bellman Chronicles. Reader of comic books and observer and chronicler of the human condition. And to my wife's eternal dismay, a mere mortal and non-vampire. I'm often told I look like your uncle, cousin, etc. If I wore a hat, I'd hang it on a hat rack in my home in Niagara Falls, Canada. You can call me The Hook, everyone else does.
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51 Responses to Musings Born of Exhaustion And Too Much Sugar.

  1. Daile says:

    You do digress my Hook, but I never mind

  2. joesard says:

    WoW with your consent I’ll cut and paste some of your work Robert, it will sure come useful when I file my 2 week vacation plan to the boss….you must be really fagged out.(me too and notwithstanding sharing the same birthace with the Stratfordian Bard I would never be able to write a piece like that 🙂 )

  3. Katie says:

    I love these rare, raw insights into your world, Hook.

  4. hmm i remember the warning of sorts about the quiet ones and the ones that were too happy all the times. and then there was this thing about the bread, That a bread is not a plant so if it looks like one throw it away 🙂

  5. Your writing is just SO good……..what a great way to start my day .Thanks!

  6. NotAPunkRocker says:

    Well said, as usual.

  7. The professor will! And we always know that the Hook is the hero.

  8. mairedubhtx says:

    A lovely post, Robert!

  9. How well he writes… hmmm, maybe I should od on sugar too!
    😉

  10. The Cutter says:

    I’mma live the crap out of today just for you. But first…back to messing around on the internet.

  11. michd74 says:

    It has been a busy week, no time to read or write but I was so happy to get your post today. I just took a little break to read and sip coffee, my first of the day though it’s noon. I feel like a voyeur too, looking at your life!!

    I will make great memories today I promise.

  12. The jester of the court was always the clever one – who really knew and understood all present. (And they got to wear funny outfits – so there’s that)

  13. This is so beautifully written. Thank you 🙂

  14. djmatticus says:

    A watcher, or a Watcher? It’s an important distinction to make, and if it’s the latter, well then I have a whole bunch of other questions for you…
    “Earn this…” All we can ever do is try our best and strive to lead a good life.

  15. Pingback: Celebration Symphony | friendlyfairytales

  16. Brenda says:

    Although I’m sure you’ve been pinged, I thought I’d also visit and let you know that I’ve made free with you name… When you have a minute: http://friendlyfairytales.com/2013/08/17/celebration-symphony/ 😉

  17. 1jaded1 says:

    Will try. You do the same.

  18. I Am Jasmine Kyle says:

    ~~~~~”Once again, I have risen from internal darkness to witness the death of another night and the birth of another day, one teeming with potential.
    Truth be told, I could be a hero of the day, or a pathetic fool. The choice, as always, is entirely mine.”~~~
    POETRY!!! SO very reflectively GRAND! It’s overwhelming isn’t it.

  19. Jo Bryant says:

    you need to do my 30 day detox Hook…I am feeling goooood

  20. You make sitting around sound so poetic, Hook!

  21. LOL….Your TOO MUCH!! Seriously though, the one I hated the most that my mom would say to me….”If you don’t straighten up, I’ll take you down to the “”Wako House and leave you there!”….I guess she knew something I DIDN’T?? They didn’t understand about *Bi-polar and mental illness* back in those days. JUST a lesson to all Parents, WORDS can HURT more then you know….
    *Have a Great Week!~~Catherine*

  22. You paint a vivid picture of this man. It is like seeing an old photo of someone you once knew. You are a gift Mr. Hook.

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