It is 2:25 in the morning and I can already hear the cock-a-doodle-do’s of our neighbors’ roosters. I am sitting here in the kitchen, eating Koko Krunch—a late midnight snack or a much too early breakfast, you may say.
There is something profound in knowing that at this time and moment, everyone’s asleep except yourself.
What could they be dreaming?
Is it possible for their souls in dreaming state to happen to meet you right at where you are now? And when morning comes they’ll be asking, “I dreamed you were in the kitchen eating cereals.” And you think to yourself, “Of course,” all fully-knowing.
Now you start to think about the nightlife of lizards and all the other insects and whatnots roaming around your home. You realize they were also your housemates, and that they, too, has a life of their own. That they, like you, are also trying to survive and make ends meet each day. That they, too, are unable to sleep now. Now you start to feel a little less lonely but also a little bit weird for even thinking of comparing yourself to such creatures.
An hour from now I will be hearing the loud signal of the garbage truck. They’re supposed to collect our trash today. By then would I have already fallen asleep? Or since I’ve already come this far, shall I wait for the sun to rise?
Gwen Eleanor 