Early Morning Reverie

"I was hopelessly naive.... I imagined that brilliant people disappeared to some secret place where good ideas floated around like leaves in autumn, and I hoped at least once you would take me there with you." -- Finding Neverland 

I only enjoyed being up all night if everyone else had the courtesy to go to sleep no later than ten or eleven o'clock, leaving me plenty of time to enjoy the night undisturbed and uninterrupted. After all, the entire purpose behind my nocturnal habits is to have time to myself to think and to write. Once, I truly believed that five o'clock in the morning was a theoretical time, which followed four o'clock in the morning, which is the latest I would be awake. (Similarly, I never woke earlier than six o'clock in the morning.) And it seemed that it would be rather insulting to the sun to rise earlier than it saw fit to do. Better to give it a few hours to stretch and enjoy a cup of coffee. (The moon didn't seem to care that I was never awake to wish it farewell in the morning.)

After sometime past three o'clock, late night turns into early morning... and I've never been a morning person. Nights are simply better. The sun has relinquished, albeit temporarily, its oppressive control, and everything is somehow softer and simpler. I've always thought it interesting that the moon is associated with chastity. Perhaps chastity is the purest form of love. Sunlight may be fiery and passionate, brilliantly stark, but it burns its lovers. The moon... the moon leaves some mystery to those who find themselves illuminated by its glow. It refrains from revealing flaws, though perhaps it is aware of them. The sun is consuming power. The moon is self-denial and sacrifice. Those things seem to me to be far more powerful. I'm not really certain why my body seems utterly convinced that nights are the time to be awake and days are to be avoided. I don't dislike the sun... the colors all the more vividly displayed by its light. But nights are more appealing. There are a thousand shades of black and gray in the sky at night, more colors than even the sunset can claim. Maybe it's the heightened senses, but everything seems more real to me at night. Perhaps that's why nightmares are so vivid and it's easier to imagine monsters under the bed.

Anyway, this note has absolutely no purpose. I woke this morning at five o'clock and was unable to fall asleep again. I'm going to make another attempt at that.