Saturday. Somnolence. Staring endlessly at the ceiling fan coalesced with the beaming lights teleporting from wall to wall making me drift into sleep. I suddenly got a glimpse of the cloudless cerulean sky forcing its way through the cracks of my curtains. My stomach growled. I ate earlier I thought. Desire started to kick in. I realized my OCD wouldn't allow me to sleep without letting the sun hit my skin and eating something, so I threw the blankets off me like a catapult and lunged forward. Walking out the door it seemed unusually peaceful. I've always admired the way the sun hits the trees making them glisten. The wind moves them swinging moods into harmony. I soaked it all in. On the path towards the waterfront of my town, I was on the usual route I took to get their getting to the store. The vibes threw me off due to the eclectic styles of houses and buildings. The first neighborhood is full of old fashioned houses. Very large and haunted looking. Like ghosts were peeping their faces out the window when you walked past them. But moving forward the houses improved as if architectures that started got better as time progressed. The houses further down were like mexican vacation houses. Surrounded by gates and palm trees with white walls made of stone. They all were near the edge of the major hill of my town, assuming these were the local version of the houses in the hills. Each house being easily over 6 figures. The sun made everything exquisite above the town. Walking to the peak of the hill, the glory of the sun sat behind the clouds over the mountains to the east making it look like New Jerusalem was coming early. I always thought about the constant despair of every drop of rain that poured onto the street of our town, each one being a reason take another step out of this place. Seeing it sunny was like seeing a winning lottery ticket being flaunted up in down in front of your face. I imagined that if God could just somehow freeze that sunny warm aired moment I would never leave.
one day, I would see those clouds forever.

Downhill. Every Time I'm at this point all I can see is ferries, and smoke rising in the air from the towers in bremerton across the water. A group of seagulls always seem to by soaring in the same spot when I look in the vastness of the sky. The hill seems to get steeper every step. Getting to the bottom of the hill always seems endless. I try to find balance due to the steepness. Around me I have a much more broad of a scene. Im downtown and it always feels as lively as it will get here as soon as I make my way to the intersection. The streets look worn down and the buildings look like they were made in in the 1870s. Something about the town just isn't very compelling. Sometimes it's good just to get out of the house, but some architects need to modernize a bit. I get an old fashioned vibe when I come down here. Like everybodys wearing feathered hats and and long superannuated coats that go down to their knees. I walk in the antique store right in the middle of the strip as I make my way across the street. In every part of town, there's always sectors of happy and upper class, sad or poor but sometimes creepy. Well this store seemed kind of off when I got inside. I felt like whatever I brought home would result in the next horror movie with Ed and Lorraine warren putting it their museum. I couldn't even eye the dolls they had in their for more than a second. Not much for me personally to enjoy here, nevertheless my curiosity possessed me. I began my stroll through the strip from their down the long skinny path filled with small town shops with that 1870 scented atmosphere. Every way I threw my eyes I could feel it. The pavement screams stories and memories from every inch I walk. Birds sit at the top of the theatre across the street from me. Holding their superior heads above the old town gossiping from year to year. No one ever hardly goes in their. I think they're to afraid.  People are flooded by the bistro. I think it's the only actual restaurant down here. Old men and women bring out that dead 19th century reality of the town sipping tea and reading newspapers. Who really reads a newspaper? I swear I see someone ride away on a horse from the corner of my eye. I come across my favorite part of the town. Vague Memories always ascend into my head from when I was younger coming here. Seeing the pirate with a lollipop in his hand put the past into a vision. The Candy Shoppe. I walk in not necessarily intending to purchase anything but rather to create emotion. I don't think the manager minds. The window displays a pretty desirable view from the outside. I stroll down the store running my fingers behind me on the edge of the isles. I always remember how good things were when I was younger. This would of been disneyland maybe 15 years ago. I take a sample on the counter and wave to the lady behind the counter. She smiles back as I continue down the strip. I go into the morning haven which they call the Coffee Oasis and sit down. I think If I could just for once wake up early enough to come down here for breakfast it would probably be a pretty good day. Morning vibes are my favorite. If I could just actually be awake in the morning. Everyone inside always seem to be so serene, and unfazed. I guess the thought of being unbothered creates a fantasy which I can see in the distance.  I leave out the back and make my way back on the strip. It's still very sunny and warm outside so I decide to go to the convenience store and get a drink. The mountains illuminate from across the waters with supernal clouds transfiguring  in the sky. I walk around the back of the store in the direction of my house and sit on the bench just to admire the day. The clock on the tower rings so loud, the fish know what time of day it is. I wonder if the ears of the workers in the tower are okay.

    The day has began to drift away from me as the amount of light fades. Its around 5pm. I take the long way home and walk through the strip again. I come across a bar I could hear from the store. Their almost as loud as the bell. I see through an open gate. Drunk bikers going stupid dancing to 80s rock and upsetting the lowly trying to have a peaceful drink. I chuckle. I approach some people walking past a the music store. Handing out flyers for an open mic. “I should go to that I thought”. I took one and gazed at the inside of the store. Me and my cousin used to go in there and talk about him being a guitarist. I could never really play so I was the one talking him up for it. The sun becomes less luminous as the trees hold on to every ray of glory the sun is taking away from them. I pass to the hill leading to my house, do a three sixty and recap my visit. As I make it to the top The heavenly clouds are still there, Like they've been waiting for me, as if they made a promise that they wouldn't leave. The wind strikes my skin and lifts a pile of leafs in front of me removing them from my feet. I turn my back on the sun with good intentions and fade into the night knowing