07:50, Saturday, Jul. 14, 2012
Hi. So it's almost 8am in the morning--a time of the day I probably haven't seen since uni, or enjoyed properly since high school. I basically laid on my bed awake for seven hours last night before deciding that I won't be able to get any shuteye once the sun is up.
I think 70-80% of the fault lies within my smartphone, with all it's apps, Internet access, videos, music, etc. The other part is probably because I was thinking too much: about how work has changed, how I'm going to see my bestie soon, how I haven't talked to him in almost two weeks, how short these holidays are, what time I'll wake up today.
Well turns out I don't sleep at all, and when I get up, the morning air which I have seemingly forgotten entices me outside with the camera (for the last frame which has been begging to be taken) and I am literally feeling the sun rise while looking like a complete suburban kid (like the neighbour I watched) as I pick up the newspaper.
You must realize that I do.not.ever: wake up this early unless I am forced to by authorized institutions; leave the house in my pjs to 'feel' the outside air; pick up the newspaper; see my neighbours; do chores voluntarily; drink coffee on my own; read the architecture magazines that have been subscribed for free; play the piano; not go straight to the computer; etc. the list goes on.
But here I am in the kitchen, sitting alone, feeling like a cup of watery coffee, thinking about doing the dirty dishes in the sink, wishing I could play the piano right now and planning to go through those magazines despite how my h they remind me of my own incompetence. I could almost make pancakes (which I have never actually done before.)
I'm slightly dizzy and my eyes are droopy but my mind has been awake since last night. Maybe it's because of the long hours of my sleeping pattern recently, or my phone, or my thoughts, but I'm glad. It feels like I've finally found time for myself, just me, since probably five months. I know if anyone else wakes up or texts me, the moment will be gone, so here I am, cherishing it while I can.
Right now, I feel like I've found my words, found my loves, found the person I used to be and (now I gladly know) always was and probably forever will be. And I'm glad to know I haven't completely changed into a gigantic slugdey sloth creature with only pretty words and compromises instead of promises. This reminds me of the quiet times I caught the bus every early morning last year; it seems like so long ago, I'd forgotten it because it wasn't significant, but perhaps they were, unknowingly.
If every day could have a moment like this, I'm sure I'd be a happier, mire beautiful person. I think I'll try to wake up earlier.