crouch like a crow

It is in the soporific haze of the early morning that you glimpse the magick of the mundane. Your eyelids weighed down by the desire to close them, your eyes glazed with the luminescence of a million pixels, your mind engorged on the buffet of colours and movements. Blink. The world that appears is a world that conjures the corporeality of hopes and dreams. Inhale. Exhale. Emotions surge into the lungs, the aortas, the reticulated network of vessels and veins. A hulking and undifferentiated mass of a mess. It barrages through the channels, making its presence known like a swaggering overlord. It claims priority; it demands superiority. And in these bleary hours, certainty is certainly something that you desire and cherish. Certainty that your day has not been a waste of time; your month, your year, your decade, your life has not been a waste of time. Certainty that your future will not be a waste of time. Certainty that you are exactly who you are in where you need to be. And in these dreary hours, you give yourself a discount by conflating lived necessities with actualized aspirations. Things are going well, the best that they possibly can, given what you have. You smile. :) Then, the song stops. In the lull between two aural worlds, the one that you had painted with firm brushstrokes disappears. Things accelerate in reverse motion. The certainty curls into itself, the emotions recedes and swirls into a drainpipe on the floor of your imagination. Blink. You are yawning, you have a final in a day's time, you are slouching against a makeshift fortress of pillows with a laptop burning up your thighs. Bleargh. But that's okay, because you will soon sleep and have the sun do the smiling for you. And you will be soothed by the stable dreams you will have later.

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