I have risen extremely early, and am pleased with this, despite a mild headache and facing the reality of my very thin, cold pajama bottoms. I have an odd desire to cook. It’s 4:44 am. It’s not so much odd that I want to cook so early rather than it odd that my desire upon waking is to cook. I am not particularly hungry either.

I have always felt a deep kinship with the late night, but early mornings are similar.

I would like to re-read all the books of my youth, to see if I can remember that love of reading. Where did I escape to in my former troubles? I used to stay up late into the night with a book, or find that my first thoughts upon waking were the excitement of continuing the recent library discovery. Now I go months without touching a book. Has every aspect of my life been destroyed? Movies, books, theatre, music, I do not touch these nearly as much. Music is hard to avoid, and this is good.

After madness you must rebuild everything. Or at least I let go of everything in those times. Some friends could do nothing but read in the dark days. I try not to think of the past any more. To a degree, this is effective. But where do I put all these memories? I am supposed to learn from them, yes yes, but they feel so tangible,  like they take up physical space inside of me. How do I purge them? Or make peace. So much peace to make in this life. It’s a full-time job. I guess peace is an emotional currency of sorts, the a different cryptocurrency, what I receive for sorting out all these internal complexities which keep my little world from working at it’s finest.

At almost-28, I still have no confidence in choosing breakfast. I have taken to a piece of my roommates pizza bread (not vegan), and a few pieces of (vegan) chocolate. I will eat an apple.

This has been a strange, yet enjoyable post for me. Happy Saturday, folks. 5:06 am.

(For those of you confused, I work at 6 a.m., and therefore it isn’t completely crazy to be up at this hour.

About Undecided Pseudonym

A woman who remembers enjoying writing.
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