A brightish morning in my head

Waking from a good sleep in a fair mood to make black coffee and one of my famous single ingredient breakfasts. This time it's comprised of breakfast sausage links on the verge of spoiling in the refrigerator. Maybe all I need to feel pretty good is constant battering and a situation with a less than negligible chance of emerging victorious. I cooked all the sausages and ate half while watching an English chef eat his way down the Mekong River on my laptop. This morning he's in Penang. Georgetown. I was there at 19. The government had an absolute zero tolerance policy for drugs and they were hanging three Australians. We drank in a hotel bar with European journalists, there to cover the story, and argued about American imperialism. There was a dark eyed French one. I hoped we might meet later that night. We did not. There were signs posted on fences around that area depicting a uniformed man shooting an unarmed, non-conforming man with a rifle. I could not read the words but understood that I should not climb any fences there. I was young, befuddled, enthralled, and fully engaged. I could have gone on like that until the world swallowed me whole.