Early mornings

Early mornings

There’s a stillness in the morning that can’t be replicated. A quietness that seems to last forever. Something magical happens in that space. When you seem to wake up before the rest of the world realized it was day.Β It’s when I usually spend my time contemplating. Sometimes I write. Sometimes I just lay in my bed, hoping that I never have to get up.

I’ve been spending my nights trying to plot a course for my life. It usually ends in guilt and frustration. The night wins. I close my eyes and try to forget about my not-so-clear future.

When I blink my eyes open in the morning, I can feel that I’m laying in the doubts and despair of the night before. They sink into my mattress and cushion my fall. They’re all around me. When I open my eyes, I have no where to look but forward. I can’t slip into dreams anymore. It’s time to face the day.

And these mornings, when I can lay listening to the quiet noises you never hear during the day, I find something like comfort, telling me to get up and try again.

Life is a waiting game. But you can decide what you do while you wait.

I want to make something.

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