Dear Morning Person

There is something wrong with you. There. I said it. What all of us night owls, sleepless, restless, can’t turn our brains off people who don’t know what our eyelids look like are thinking when you are so bright and happy at whatever those hours are that happen before noon.

Coffee? Yes. Tea? Yes. Does it have caffeine? Give it to me. But why is morning so rough?

Honestly, there is a infinitesimally small nanosecond of time where the morning can be wonderful. By some miracle I may have slept with good dreams of alternate realities and had a fleeting moment where the dream stuck around long enough in my consciousness to fool me. Then I opened my eyes. It slipped away and poof. I may have slept dreamlessly in the dark and quiet, rested the depleted parts of my soul, and regained some of my ever vanishing sanity… but then I opened my eyes. It all started again.

So it isn’t the morning that is so difficult but the waking up to face the day. It is another day without autonomy. Another day of witnessing the world spin beneath and around and feeling every little minute ounce of the force of life pulsing through you without any ability to explain to anyone the overwhelming nature of existence. You’d think that those who exist would understand existence, but I’ve come to learn (if not accept) that blindness is an epidemic. An external source of purpose is now a requirement to any sane functioning member of society. So for those who experience existential crises and are willing to explore meaning and purpose without arbitrarily assigning it to an ethereal being, a cause, a goal… waking up is hard.

(Why do you think I’m still awake?)


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