mr stranger

Its Saturday and the nice feeling of sleeping in and not being awoken by the Beatles and "Here comes the Sun" soon passes. Im in my flat, its purple, no-one is around. It all suddenly feels very strange, the maddness, the noise and constant milling around is gone. The being surroundeed by friends, kids and others all comes to a hugegantic halt. Here I am in my Jammys, in my flat, (its purple) no noise no company, no pressing tasks, niente!
This feeling is a stranger to me, Mr Stranger I dont wish to be associated with you, I dont like you! I cry when your there, `I hate you. I feel like you visit me as a punishment. I stand in the shower trying to expand the drops of water to cascade over the whole of my body. Water is not good at embracing you. Im wrapping my arms tightly round my body, what have I done to deserve such a visitor? The arrogant part of me bears its head as thoughts bleed into my thinking. I think of all I do and all I have given up. Some salty tears and slimmy snot later I find myself sitting in Starbucks surrounded by a mixed community of people, some on there own, some with kids. Im sitting opposite a christian chick (we are gona meet there again nxt wk) we didnt really say much to each other. Im reading a chapter of a book all about solitude and silence and the benfits of it and writting this.
I then realise that Mr Stranger visits me as a gift, only its the kida gift you dont know what to do with. Its one of those gifts that is given with your best interest at heart.

So thanks for the gift.
Help me to like it