The Morning

My eyes open to the floor, clouded with last nights dream or was it a nightmare? My book shelf is tattered with unread and read books, theres a half read book right next to my hand on the floor and the hum of the traffic stirs madly toward the main streets. The sun isn't up yet but it's trying it's damnedest to break through the fog. The once lively buildings across the street seem pleasant and inviting whilst the gym next to it gives of hope and dis spare at the same time, who would have thought? The gray blues are now turning into grey mist. My room disheveled, as per normal, laundry in a bit of a state yet it feels so good to wake in my own bed, in my own time, with the sunrise corralling around the interest of a new day.
  Mt eyes eyes really adjust giving you the full spectrum of the beginning, life changes just for that moment. For that moment I am perfect and so is the day. There haven't been any mistakes or accidents or arguments. At that moment you realize that yesterday was gone and today brings forth a better version of you; how delightful, to begin again. The normal shower I take seems to take longer. The routine of face washing doesn't feel as though it's forever and a day to was just one item. Teeth, oh it's good to see you smiling back at me and I know of a grand job for you this morning, breakfast. However, here we are, writing. The morning has happened and I am still waking up. . . coffee?