The moments after I wake up for the school, I can already see it piercing through my nearby forests. Living on the first floor doesn't give the best view, but sign of a new day still shines through my window.
After getting out of my big empty bed, I make either tee or coffee, and usually skip the breakfast since I'm not in mood for cooking. Trough kitchen window I can see the straight street of my village, lighted up by the dawn, where only things that is casting shadows are few lonely trees. Almost no sight of snow, just a frost on whatever winter grass that is left, on the branches and asphalt, which makes it sometimes look like its covered in shattered glass. The silence, the warm cup in my hands, and the loneliness really makes it feel like I'm in a abandon museum, where the only things that hold the painting in place are the window frames.
After finishing the drink, I dress up for the school, the usual black sweater and jeans, my favourite lether jacket and scarf, and moderate gray winter boots, before going outside of my apartment and locking the door. Its rather chilly outside, especially when annoying winds come up, only thing warming me are the clothes and the sun on my side. There it is again. In middle of all obnoxious thoughts about the school and people, the morning light seems to be my only distraction for my tired mind. The orange facade breaking trough the clouds, opening up the path for the sun to show the new world, with same old people, allways seems calming to me.
When going down the village, crossing the highway and finally arriving at the rather rubbish train station, it almost makes up for this 20 minute walk and waking up to another alarm. As I wait for train, i can only enjoy the bright canvas in front of me, before having to go another day's struggle of studying for the exams and sitting alone in library. Usually the morning are the hardest part of the day, but at the same time, for me they are most enjoyable. All thanks to the way the sun rises and paints the sky with yellow and orange tones, letting my mind drift of somewhere else for a moment, forgetting about cold, forgetting about the studies, forgetting about my isolation, before entering the train that leads to my destination of new days struggle.
BINABASA MO ANG
February morning
Non-FictionJust simply my description of moments that I like when I go to the train. And I guess a my first attempt of writing something here. I'm just trying to keep myself awake during the day right now.
