Caffeine

My bedtime-graph bears a horrendously steep, positive gradient.

For the first few days, I thought sleeping at 2 a.m. was abnormally beyond my usual. Then I developed a habit of basking in the stale air of the night, when every other living thing has sunk into dead silence, except me, the sounds of my fingers clacking away on the keyboard and occasional screeches coming from the neighbourhood cats as they battle for territory (yup, story of Marine Parade cats). I'd take the time discovering the undiscovered of music, penning down the flood of mindless thoughts in words and shapes on my little black book, and recently, rekindling my passion for the guitar. Seldom but surely, I flip through my notes too and I am not ashamed of being one who burns the midnight oil because the past half-year worth of 'what-the-fuck-is-this's and 'I-don't-get-it's puzzle pieces are falling quite into place.

2 a.m. turned into 3 a.m., then eventually 4 a.m., and tonight, I've pulled my first all-nighter in eons. But I've missed doing this, and by "this", I meant resetting my body-clock in reverse and unleashing those beastly eyebags to the world yet feeling contented anyway. So it's all good.

Time check: 7 a.m.
Guess who gets to see the sunrise?