The sky is a soft gray canvas, whispering dawn as it drives away the night; it is quiet in the world, a breath held tight with awakening slow from peaceful night.
An air-breaking song of a bird-a melody floating, sweet and rare. Dew on the grass glitters bright-little stars in the half-dark fading night.
Cools the air, purifies the earth, makes moments fresh and sure: the sun mounts over the hills onto rise; golden brush waking sky.
In the gentle silence of early morning is the holiest spot in the world, a time to dream, to pause, and to consider the beauty of a day freed....
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
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