Awake, Awake, Awake

by Michael Gebelein It’s always been hard for me to identify with things that are unknown. To feel the embrace from a different plane of existence or consciousness seems incorrect. I’ve made a show of tolerance and acceptance so hopefully actions really do tell more to the world than words. Leaning in closer to see the world with eyes like a fortune teller on Miami Beach, or a Baptist preacher in a small Southern town, a gas station attendant in Cleveland. Maybe they’ve got it figured out, but for now I’ll just lay in this bed with this piece of paper on a Monday morning with the snow coming in from outside and a ring of cigarette smoke over the end table. Letting the world have a short glimpse before throwing the curtains wide. Michael Gebelein is a writer living in Asheville, North Carolina.