Yes it is almost 9 am. I haven't found myself tired yet. I'm sure as the day drags on I'll become a zombie. And want to eat someone's brains. Or something.
But I don't see the point of laying in bed thinking about trying to sleep. When I really want to do is think about things that rather upset me.
But one thing did come to mind while I was in the pitch black of my bed room. The reality of how many times I ask why. And if it is a bad thing?
As a poet I guess it's common to ponder. To wonder. But that also makes you very sad and complex. Fills you with questions you slowly doubt you can answer.
Even if you lived for a million years. Or repeated the same day over and over again.
I doubt you'd find your profound answer. Least not the one your wanting. Not what your heart wanted to hear.
But right now all my heart wants to know is why things are so hard.
Does that have to be such a hard answer. Are we so different from night and day.
As I watch the daylight of morning eat the darkness of night. I wonder if I am sometimes becoming consumed by the light that is in front of me.
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You can sleep until 9am
?
At least you could stay in bed until 9am
.