It churns, it does. It returns, it must. It wakes me from the nightly lull, not so fresh, a lack of vitamins, peut-être. Good morning. Another crack in a neck bent out of shape. Another bite of a sandwich you love, with regret, and say one day you’ll change. Another idea, if you’re fresher, that could make the world better. Another kiss, another cry, another evening spent streaming another delicious lie. Another laugh with friends, another moment alone, another day to create or do nothing but moan. Oh, it’s nothing really and everything really. How lucky we are, united in orbit. It’s just another day on earth.