Mindless gibberish by the Morning Hour.

Eh, just sort of writing. Started thinking about it at 4:06 AM this morning, after walking back from taking pictures of the sunrise, which I had started watching after my friend introduced me to watching them rise.

4:06 AM. It's this hour that the street lights are still lit, yet the sun has begun its course of illuminating the Earth. Although it feels as though I'm the only person alive, I know this cannot be correct. This town is full of hard-headed drunks, and, although many have become weak and succumb to the painful after effects of over-drinking, I know that there must be a few still up and kicking. I also figure that in this town, with a population of 20, 000, there must be some others of my kin. Perhaps not many, in fact by personal estimate, I assume around maybe 30 - 50 tops, of these types are still in this tarpit of a city. Most have probably left for far greater things in this season of Summer. Still, despite all these obvious reasonings, I felt different.

 

Sitting here from this baseball diamond in midst of this beautiful July 5th morning (which is my entire ploy, to take pictures of the sunrise, but we'll get right into that), I feel... unique. No, that doesn't quite seem right. To my best knowledge, I can't explain this feeling in a word based in the English language. Maybe in some strange Arabic dialect which I know not, but definitely not English. It is the feeling of being alive. The feeling of laying in the dewing grass with your Kodiak camera, with the intention of snapping some beautiful photos of the sunrise, which you have grown accustom to since you watched it last with a friend. The feeling of living life on the (nocturnal) edge. It is the very essence of the exsistance that we strive to be indited into, yet only watch from a distance. It is a glass of ice-cold water on a sizzling mid-July day, in the middle of the Gobi desert. The feeling of utter contempt, yet still yearning for more. That is how I felt on that morning, with drunkards surrounding me to the mountain tips, and seagulls shrieking from their perches. I felt Peace.

 

To myself, I had, by no means, a reason to feel peace. I was in midst of a tug o' war over my heart. If you've ever dated (in which case, God help you), you know what I mean. The feeling of being alone (or at least not with her) and the fear of being alone (or not being without her). Firstly, it should be written down in stone tablature that, unless I truly love you, there is no point in trying to change me. Next, it should be made mandatory law that couples be in love eventually in their relationship. If you go the entire way without achieving some sort of loving nature, it shouldn't be called a relationship. Or a relationship should be the title given to a couple who is together yet not in love, because being together does not signify love. At least, I'm pretty sure it doesn't. I'm not sure what exactly love is, but I think this is a question that is posed to everyone and no two people should have identical answers. Love is what you make of it. I've seen people who hate each other that are in love, because of it. Love = happiness. Sorry, I'm getting off topic. Or was there ever really a topic to this gander into the fine side of madness? Gah, it's not necessary to assume the worst, but we do anyways.

 

I think I found someone who I want to be with, although that is just an assumption, but I am going to go against the grain this time round and say that I hope we are together. I saw her tonight (this morning?) and ever since, I've only been able to see up, maybe this is also affecting my struggle in the love light, but I figure she solved it, if anything. I feel free in a sense, like a sparrow flying to such miraculous heights. Or Icarus, although I hope I don't crash and burn, but everything's possible.

 

 

Carrying on from yesterday, after carefully re-reading my garbling scribbles (which, besides spelling errors, I've decided not to edit or change, for sake of the story), I can say I woke up happy for once. I am in a spectacular mood, and the I am truly seeing the beauty in things. The beauty of eating last nights dinner for breakfast, especially when the food in case is rhubarb cake. The beauty in taking your younger siblings out and making their day all the much better, which heightens yours as well. The beauty in talking to people who detest you and whom you despise all the more, yet, no matter what the say, they don't bother you. Not today at least. The beauty of life. The beauty of Love. The beauty of you. But, mostly, for me, the beauty, both physical and mental, of Her.

Selah.

Author's Note

Please disregard (or better yet, inform me) of all spelling errors, I can't be bothered to re-read my own work, it tends to gain dissatisfaction after re-reading it, then eventually I'll just re-write it and I don't want to ruin the image I've captured (or think I have) by re-writing something.