I close my eyes and focus. Before me appears a white porcelain cup. Once it was a tea cup, but it is for coffee now. I prefer coffee. I touch it with my mind. I caress its smooth material, its bevels, its rim. It is without hard edges. I rub its warmth against my face. I look inside and see that there is no coffee in this cup. It is empty, save for the word, "No." This, in its perfect architectural harmony, is my happy place, my serenity, my refuge against the cacophony of idiots babbling, bureaucracy churning, Hellfire missiles exploding, and children screaming. It is my svelte sanctuary of meditation. From this cup, I draw all my power. "No" is the tool with which I carve reality. "No" is the rudder that steers the ship. "No" is patience. I drink the coffee.
Peanut Gallery