maxxus

Well, as those of you who know me know, I am a nocturnal person. During semesters of school I'll force my body to comply with the framework of "normal" sleep, rising in the morning, sleeping at night, as most of the world does. Lately though, I've reverted to my natural state of rising at 3-5 in the afternoon, being active until 6 or 7 in the morning. Active being a relative term, of course. There's just something magical about being awake during the night. It's like, you get to experience a part of the day many people will literally never see. I've seen my environment how it chooses to appear during each of the 24 hours of the day. I get to see and enjoy little wonders the average person will never see, and I feel somehow unique in that way. I take brief but immense pleasure in walking outside, emerging from my cave just as the sun is rising, as I stand not breathing, but drinking in the cool desert air, marvelling at the tranquility of that one magical slice of time. The slice I speak of is when the sun and moon co-exist peacefully, not quite morning, not quite night, but the best of each world. The sun has risen high enough that it is able to paint deep and beautiful colors across the sky, but not so high that it has begun to bake and crack the earth. One of my very favorite things to do at this time is to walk down to my car, and simply drive around, for no other reason than the fact that I can. I'll often hit Jack in the Box, enjoying the sensation of sinking my teeth in to a greasy, salty, heavenly burger, then swigging sweet, sweet coke. The contrasting flavors mixing in my mouth to create the perfect amalgamation of caloric heaven I'll then drive back towards my apartment, usually in a circuitous route designed not for expediency, but to allow me time to swim in my random contemplations, or to simply watch the city rise from her bed, pick the early morning commuters from her hair, and begin the day anew, bracing for the sweltering, merciless, life-giving sun to dry her sands and warm her streets. I usually find myself contemplating simple pleasures, things we all get to enjoy that cost nothing, expect nothing in return, things that only give joy, assuming we take the time to notice them. Things like waking in the morning, rolling on to your back, knowing you're rested, and that you can lie there just enjoying your time of solitude and calm before rising to greet the day. Conversely, the immense joy I take from realizing how tired I am, and knowing that I get to jump in bed, wrap myself in sheets, lay my head on the pillow, dig my knees in to the mattress, and fall peacefully to sleep, whenever I so desire. On my own terms, not constrained by some artificially imposed requirement of "I have to be up at ____"

There are two situations in which I might find myself in life where I will be consistently in a contemplative mood. One of these is alone in the forest, the second is at that night/morning time of the day. I typically don't think of anything of great consequence, rather finding myself waxing philosophic about trivial, inconsequential little details of life, things most people never bother to think about. But then, that's the whole point, isn't it?