Late afternoon in the late winter and the air is crisp outside. I sit here in the warmth of the teahouse drinking my coffee slowly. I don’t know if they do free refills here.

I like this place. Low-lit and exotic. A hint of mint in the air. There are always people here but it’s never too crowded that you can’t get a table.

I smell sesame and pita and garlic. Coffee. Mint.

My thoughts are on the real Sahara today. War in Libya. Our forces attack. The French and British allied with us and the Libyan rebels against the Ghadafi regime. So much bloodshed.

My thoughts are also with the Japanese. Their coast laid waste by earth and water and now contaminated with nuclear radiation. Disaster. The radiation has touched our Western shore. How long before it contaminates our food supply? Will the government cover it up?

It’s hard to know what is truth these days. The media, a government mouthpiece, spews meaningless fluff. I read the other day that the government has designed social media software to mimic real people in order to spread propaganda throughout the internet.

Visited by a child aged Mozart in a dream. He had this room filled with “music boxes” made of wooden fruits and vegetables. Each box played a melody associated with the fruit or vegetable. I asked him if I could have the apples and oranges for Keri and so he wrote down the music notation from old tattered notebooks for me to give her. Then I woke up.