what? What!

What can I write this morning to incite someone who blunders into this blog.  I have no idea where the blunderers come from.  It is enough to put these messages in a bottle in the hopes that someone will see them one day.  I wonder how many shipwrecked castaways added a note to their bottle with a jaundiced eye towards irritating the reader just enough, not so much that they would throw the bottle back into the ocean uncorked, but enough to say, "I am shipwrecked, but I am still myself, I still have an identity, I am, in some small way, marooned though I am, better than you, more clever.  Come get me if you will, but if not, my bones will shade the sand crabs who ate my flesh, the beetles will use my eye sockets as verandas, my jaws will forever have deaths wide grin, saying as nothing else can, I mock you." 
This early in the morning there is no one I have to listen for, no one who expects me and no one I expect.  Well, maybe a call from China, or Koblentz, perhaps the rare call from someone going to sleep in cleymont or north Africa.  But none of them expect anything, their calls are made without expectation.  "Is anyone there?", they call out in the dark and then satisfied they turn back to their sake, their brandy, tea, aperitifs, cognacs and champagnes satisfied it is safe outside; although it is not safe.
This is the only peaceful time in my life, I alone with my solitary solutions to your universe, my self styled solutions to problems you don't believe you have, my cries to the world to show some sort of intelligence that is absence except to the one who has blundered into this blog.