Six oh eight on a Sunday morning. I could be sleeping, dreaming for another few hours, but for some reason I'm wide awake. I woke up about two hours ago and have been trying to fall back asleep ever since. I'm not sure what it is, but after I heard the first thunder drum I sort of started listening. A lightning struck, another thunder, and soon enough came the rain.
Last night I was drunk, although I didn't realize it until I was on my way home. The taxi ride made me dizzy. It's funny though, because it sure wasn't the amount of alcohol, that much I didn't drink. After that last shot of dark rum mixed with creamy liquor it probably hit me. It was delicious and perhaps that's why it got to me. But then, I was never much of a drinker.
These past few days have been amazing. I can't believe how lucky I am, because it's such a contrast to how pathetic I felt before. After a streak of little pieces of shit that happened, it seems like I finally flipped the script. It feels like I had been living with a nasty thorn in my foot that is now gone. I can breathe again. At six in the morning on a rainy Sunday I feel strangely at peace.
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