I never wake before 12 unless I have to. I love being up early, but I don't have the drive to get out of bed basically. If I ever see the sunrise it's most likely because I've stayed up all night due to an art attack. Today was different. I had to get up really, really early after sleeping only a few hours. It was still dark when I stepped out the door, I sensed a heavy blackness weigh down upon me. It just didn't feel right to be up at that time, at all. As I got on the bus, I suddenly realized that the noir gloominess of the streets was nothing compared to the devastating world of this neon-lit phalanstery. First of all, everyone is by himself, or even if there are couples, they don't say a word to each other. Everyone is just dazed off with this sinister sorrow of self-hatred, or simply sitting with shoulders bent, occasionally falling asleep. I slowly drifted into a brief phantasy of all the people on the bus suddenly cheering up, throwing confetti, hugging and playing - but then I returned to my dull, expressionless fellow human beings and my pathetic self. I was no different. I was just one of those miserable wankers who sat on the 5am bus contemplating the useless crap of a life they have.
I'm toying with the idea of suicide a lot these days. It's nothing more than a silly game though. Philosophically, we are in need of an existential exit, as I prefer to call it in my head. We need to know that there's a last option if things go wrong.
But then again, the sun came up and shone at us.
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