wednesday morning meeting with myself

just when i was contemplating between the crunch of Cosmic-cocos battling Crisp, swimming in a bowl of silk soy
or biting into a fluffy forkful of spongy eggs
the lack of soundtrack begged me to discuss

wait for the summer of Yeasayer or.. Lupe's sunshine?
The Strokes... this must be it! succumbing to the addiction of Ryan Leslie's diamonds
pausing the dull with Junior boys or the icelandification of Sigur Ros..
getting by on Talib.. by singing Casiotone- for i am painfully alone?

salty or sweet?
prostitute stilettos or pf flyers?
hip hop or indie?
express or local?
should i stand near the door on the D train. or should i just go to the middle and claim a pole?
constantly flipping through playlists of options
..... but never really letting anything play entirely

the see-saw-ing game of decision making feels most cathartic in the moment when your seat rises to the highest point before it abruptly teeters back into undulation.

. what if --

we freeze in a moment where the plane becomes parallel
and finds balance in a definite point- verifiable by the physics of mass, speed and the momentum of life.

letting the dream- for once, cast a shadow perfectly outlining reality as we know it on this playground