And sometimes, I remember to look outside the window. It's still dark at 6am, but an hour later, it's day again. By 9am it's already too bright. It's my favourite moment then. I am done with work, so I pull the curtains and get in my bed for the sweetest three-hour sleep. The phone is on do-not-disturb and nothing can be more important than sinking into a deep sleep.
Morning, early 2017
Waking up at 6 am every day comes with a short moment of horror. (Probably also because it's after only a few hours of sleep, sometimes as little as two or three). It's like having a few seconds when your mind sees with high clarity where you are, what you are. It's anxiety combined with huge alterness. It's like seeing yourself for who you are, without any layers. I see myself lonely, afraid of getting old, afraid of dying. I think of my parents, my friends. In those few seconds, I know who I am- or at least that's the feeling. Then I normally turn on the laptop, maybe get out of bed to make a tea. That's always calming and nice because it reminds me of my life with my parents. That's how every morning would start at home, with tea boiling on the cooker, them getting ready for work, me preparing for school. Then I check Facebook to see if I have any messages, I look at Sumi, who is still sleeping. Or she may already be awake, asking for food.