June 1, 2017

There's nothing quite like a brisk June morning. The wind blowing through your hair as the sun slowly slips over the horizon. The birds chirp and leaves sway as the world comes to life. Your cat rubs against your legs and purrs as your cigarette touches your lips. They've never tasted better. You inhale deeply and smell the dew that covers the grass along with the honeysuckles down the road and the burning of gas as people make their way to work. It saddens me when I think about how they probably aren't appreciating 5:45 a.m like they should be. It's the stillest time. The most peaceful. The world is stirring from it's sleep. Rising with the world is the most blissful thing to experience. However, it makes you aware of things. This morning's epiphany was this, I'm mostly ashes, but I constantly rise from them, and I'm always burning. And like the sun, if I must burn to feel alive, by the goddess I will burn until I can't burn anymore. I don't think I've ever been quite as at peace with that as I am in this very moment.