Remember that morning?… Well, it’s not really a morning, technically. Darkness is still prevalent and absolute. If it wan’t for that gigantic mass of concrete with the countless tiny holes you are accustomed to call windows, which makes an impervious barrier between the sky and the tiny hole on one of the four walls enclosing that limited piece of space you are accustomed to call home, you’d be able to discern that not even the faintest luminous tint has yet touched the east horizon. It’s deep night still… a nucleus of logic hidden somewhere inside your brain and your aching muscles tell you that you shouldn’t be awake. And you would not, if it wasn’t for that abhorrent jingling noise which penetrated violently into your dream, forcing you to erect yourself from your cosy bed to make it stop by pressing that button, which you mechanically know will make that detestable buzz to fade away. It stopped, the quiet is restored, you look back to your bed and you feel a cogent desire to let your body fall back onto it, under the blanket, and reassume your balmy sleep. But you don’t, you cannot, as your brain starts gradually to revolve, and its habitual, awaken, anxious modus is taking sway over it, bringing forth words as: “job”, “boss”, “money”, “bills”… thoughts so powerful, that compel you to ignore your exhaustion. You stand now in front of your tiny hole endeavoring to assemble all your strength to your two thumbs, sufficient to light up the cigaret you just stuck between your lips, while the boiler heats up some water you are soon to pour into that cup containing two spoonfuls of instant coffee powder. You better hurry up, you have twelve minuets to smoke that fag, drink that coffee, put your heavy clothes on and get out to the freezing night to reach the bus-stop on time. You try to drive your thoughts away from your job, you hate it so much. The idea and only of the next long nine hours tortures your brain terribly. You try intensively to think of something else but your poor mind always returns there, to the same question: “ how is this day gonna pass?”. Then, all of a sudden, a momentary relieving thought occurs to you… you think of the weekend. You will then go out with your colleagues. You will have a great time! You are going to wear that new, expensive, fine suit you bought two days ago. You are going to show it off to the people frequenting that fancy restaurant you use to go. This thought excites you! And even more excites you the continuation… then, you will go out to the club and get wasted! You catch yourself smiling in the idea of how much you are going to drink! And then the most exciting of the thoughts occur… no doubt, this time all the girls will fall infatuated of your handsomeness in your new suit! Yes, this time you certainly gonna end up, finally, on the bed with some super sexy chick! And this time, too, unlike all the last ones, she’s going to remember you in the morning… “Morning?”, the occurrence of this word cuts your reverie abruptly. You look the clock, fuck! You are late! You run like crazy down the stairs simultaneously putting your jacket on, while you are thinking: “ how is this day gonna pass?… and it’s only Monday…”
Then, remember now that other morning… Well, you probably cannot remember it, but try to imagine it anyway. It is morning! And it is a great new morning! You haven’t opened your eyes yet, but you know that, because a splendid brightness has just awaken you, striking mightily against your eyelids, turning the previous blackness of your sleeping-state into a vivid, warm, auspicious redness. You are not in any hurry to open your eyes. You rather take your time to loll and indulge in the process of observing the gradual devolution of that buxom dream you were just seeing into an even buxomer reality. The brightness progresses steadily, becoming stronger and stronger, till it finally compels you to open your eyes. The first thing you see is the source of that brightness, the mighty ruby sun, the half part of which has stuck up from the unbounded ocean, which is placidly plashing against this wide, secluded, fine-sandy beach you’ve been calling home lately. You get up slowly, you stretch solemnly, you wipe off the sand from your face and you start ambling towards the sea. You swim firmly facing the, fully-appeared by now, sun. You are out in the open sea. The quiet is strict, even the ocean itself keeps silence this morning. You experience the utter peacefulness. Nothing but a feeling of profound happiness runs over your head. You swim back to the beach, the sun has raised quite some good way by now. You go and sit under that casuarina resting your back against its trunk. That’s exactly the same spot and pose you’ve been sitting for some mornings already. How many, you cannot count any more, nor should you want to count for any reason, it is of no importance. You just sit there beholding the amazing scenery around you, contemplating that, even though physically probably, you will never leave this place mentally. The recollection of this very feeling you have right now will always reign in the realm of your memories.
