transitory

I think the attractive thing about staying up late is the nature of midnight activity. that includes midnight sadness - there are people to talk to, emotions spilling at 3am, elusiveness (of strangers and not) while other times there are serenity, loneliness and nostalgia and these are feelings which hit harder at midnight than any time of the day. they intrigue me. people have all sorts of reasons to stay awake and it is somehow easier to make conversation. 

another reason is personal indulgence - the mentality that the longer I stay awake, the more I get to see of the world. the more time I have reading and discovering, sometimes the more moments I have for myself in a pivotal time where there are minimal disturbances, no places to go.

this week I've been sleeping earlier, much earlier than usual, and i am awakened by white noise of a whirring fan at the odd hour of 730am. and my early morning events have brought something equally consuming. morning walks, where the sky is either slightly damp, or comfortably blue, there are smiles from neighbors who I barely see or talk to. morning bus rides (stuck in the 8am jam so I talked to God about random things that I unconsciously forget) or sitting on the floor in my room filing, with gold from a sunrise streaming through my windows. catching the last tweets of the 4am-sleepers, which all reads a bit like a collective sigh

this morning I also bought bread on my way out and the cashier lady spoke in such a cheery voice that I couldn't help but smile, and I know this is the time of day where her spirit is the fullest, before the busy Thursday crowd comes in.

it is true - "there may be pain in the night, but joy comes in the morning." it is a liminal state; but to catch happiness, or sadness 

chantel says, it is so much easier to love sadness. and that is not wrong either. mostly, it is intrinsic that we always want to be able to protect, and reaffirm, or we are simply drawn by the poignance of a heavy heart.

and the world spins madly on.