Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. This early in the morning, you're ventilator perfect. As if, in waking up this early you inherently don't want to break the natural silence, you are perfectly in sync with everything all at once. Still not functional, still not awake, any advantage that would have arisen from getting up with only a few hours under your pillow is totally effaced. Showering doesn't help, not really, the warm essence of it bringing you farther back to unconciousness, like a baby and its blanket. The only recourse, the only respite available to you is outside, among the sounds of dawn. In the bruise blue sky, no sun hangs. The brisk air fills your pores with a feeling of fragility. And then, as if it has always been and never will be again, the sun rises, setting your skin ablaze with warmth, but not the false warmth of the shower. This warmth is genuine and brings with it light and hope. You stretch, everything reanimates. Like the vampire being utterly destroyed by the suns rays, they destroy you too, they annihilate you, but in that same moment you are reborn. You step back inside and prepare for the day.

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