Awakening
This is a short piece I wrote early one morning, when I woke up at 4:00. Just a small comment on solitude, silence and thought.
Excitement surrounds me as I awaken for the day once more. The mundane is a memory now � the moon is out, the wind stirs, and the only signs of the artificial lie in neglected city lamps. It is twenty minutes to five in the morning. The cat hobbles his way to the window, a speechless calm come over him. For now, we speak the same language. The sun will not show himself for another hour at least, and, for those of us who love the darkness, twilight is bliss. There will be those who speak ill of its admirers, for surely our modern world has become afraid of the shadows. For now, though, the world is perfect. No discord, no noise, no interruptions � I can hear myself think. Descartes said, �I think, therefore I am.� Surely, then, right now is when I really am me.
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