(no subject)
i don't know why, but there's something special about still being up for the sunrise on a cold morning. i mean, i always have liked the way everything is lit in the wee hours of the morn before that giant, fiery ball makes it's appearance. maybe it's the combination of that and being tired, the cold air making drowsiness all but impossible. perhaps it's looking forward to the sleep that waits after coming home from... wherever. slipping into bed and being able to almost completely relax.
i don't know. but there's a particular feel to those mornings. a feeling free of the downtrodden, festering low level of depression that seems to be wrapped around me like a suffocating cloak these past years because i'm honestly too tired to care.
it's a good feeling. i miss it. all my mornings are a struggle to wake up enough in a world which, up until recently, seemed to be stricken with perpetual twilight. i need another morning with some light to it.
i don't know. but there's a particular feel to those mornings. a feeling free of the downtrodden, festering low level of depression that seems to be wrapped around me like a suffocating cloak these past years because i'm honestly too tired to care.
it's a good feeling. i miss it. all my mornings are a struggle to wake up enough in a world which, up until recently, seemed to be stricken with perpetual twilight. i need another morning with some light to it.