How right can this be?

I don't know-
Most mornings I wake up and forget to be grateful for all the things I take for granted. Yet I found myself at the hub of all Seattle destinations yesterday morning sitting drinking my Starbucks coffee and a cigarette trying to blissfully ignore that which was all around me. I sometimes think my life sucks because I feel like I am wandering with no direction right now, wanting GOD to give me some burning bush sign that I am indeed headed in the right direction, to give me the answers to the questions I so desperately seek-yet not really ever satisfied with anything put in my path...instead of being grateful for the opportunities I am given today I sit and bitch about all that I do not have. How dare I when this being sat with her life in a backpack the size of what I take for granted everyday. How can you enjoy your life when life sits and looks you right back in the face daring you to complain yet a little more. Then I met Rob- perhaps not seeing the message but more the messenger on this beautiful morning. At first I was afraid to approach him- not knowing what to expect- but this gentle being just wanted what we all wanted. Just some acknowledgment of his existence. Was it any different then what I ask for everyday. I ask him if I could buy him a cup of coffee and share with him a cigarette in exchange for a few pictures- yes he said. I asked him how he like his coffee just black was all he replied. So we sat and smoked silently as I look upon his beat up body- when I finally spoke it was to ask him where he spent the night last night. In a very quiet voice he shared with me that there was a place over by the market that had electrical outlets where he could recharge his battery operated wheelchair and sleep relitavely safe. I ask him how did he get there and as he spoke I felt this immense sadness overwhelm both of us. He shared a story that could have easily been mine. He had a troubled past, spending sometime incarcerated for petty crimes, he hadn't finished high school but worked to get his GED inside. Upon release he found it extremely difficult to find work or go to school- he simpliy said "no one wants to hire a convicted felon". Feeling as if he had nowhere to go and nothing productive to offer society he felt his only way out was to take his own life- but his attempt landed him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I asked him how he got by and he said some money from the government but he ask me if I could live on $300 , I could not was all I could reply. The loop holes he said where unbearable-fighting for his social security was an all consuming effort in his life right now. That and where he was going to sleep-but he said to me he wasn't worried about that yet, it was still early in the day. I sat with him as I watch some people approach us and drop money into his dirty Starbucks cup, he said usually people were not so generous this early in the morning. Maybe he said it had something to do with the warm sun-
As I got up to leave I drop some money into his cup and gave him another cigarette, he said to me thank you for taking the time to talk with me-you let me feel human today as if I had something to offer. No I said to him-thank you for saving my life today.

"Why Do Mannequins Have Hard Nipples"

I love Friday mornings. Contrary to my own misconceptions that I should be fully charged up on Monday mornings-the opposite is true. I find myself arriving on Friday mornings on the corner of 4th & Pike-charged up on not enough sleep all week,copious amounts of caffeine and nicotine & something indescribable- the bliss of yet another weekend filled with homework, a empty bed and a tank full of fish staring at me all hours of the night waiting to be fed. Not that I sleep any less because of the fish. At first I was lulled to sleep by the never ending sound of the bubbles, but when I added the second tank-now its bubbles in stereo.Surround sound by Dolby bubbles. Most nights truth be told it really does aid in falling asleep, but lately between the surround sound, sam the satanic cat kneading bread on black dogs furry chest-kneading her to sleep-all serves to remind me of "EBS" or better known as empty bed syndrome. (By the way-this was a phrase I heard from a friend).Anyway I know what you are thinking-what does any of this have to do with "why do mannequins have hard nipples"? Hold the presses I am getting there.
So there I sat in front of "Starbucks" on 4th & Pike wondering why with my empty thoughts on "EBS"-why is the same roast of coffee I brew at home just a mere hour ago at my house is 10x stronger then mine and my ex said I made it to strong. I always have to ask them to add hot water then I have to add more cream to it-turning it almost white (white coffee) and now it's to cold to drink (because I like my coffee at least 185 degrees)- damn it there I go getting sidetracked by Starbucks. Where was I?
Oh yes-corner of 4th & Pike-black dawn rising, street people wandering(where do they pee anyway?) cigarette smoking and my very luke warm yet strong cup of Pike Place Roast when in the middle of my "EBS" train of thought- I started thinking back to the nipple hardened mannequin I thought I may have seen in those pre-dawn unconscious moments on Monday morning. So I gathered my rolling backpack,and cup of luke warm Starbucks coffee and wandered over to the Macy's window display usually occupied by a sleeping resident. Sure enough there she was standing tall in her purple cashmere sweater pulled taut over her very visible hardened nipples.
Sure she was attractive enough as far as mannequins go-but my question was why? Why were her nipples hard? She was in what I could only assume was a very nice warm window display with a cashmere sweater. How could she be cold? Was it perhaps the hot male mannequin in the window display next to her? So close yet in another window display world away. Did they know each other yet destined to be so close apart-coming close only when it was time to change their dirty clothes? What was the answer-I had to know. Maybe in today's economical crisis where I find it hard to part with my .45 cents in change from Starbucks which use to be my excuse for a lame tip- that perhaps Macy's now more then ever is using nipple hardened beautiful mannequins to sell purple cashmere sweaters. Personally I think perhaps she suffers from "EWS" or better known as "Empty Window Syndrome". Either way I should probably cut back on the coffee...