It is an ungodly hour of the morning right now. 2:47am to be precise. What I am doing awake, I do not know. Well... yes, yes I do. That annoying writerly part of me has been mused and won't shut up about it until I jot a few things down.

Rarities are what I live for. This morning I drove. My tires treaded the pavement in the early hours, passing underneath the Franklin Avenue bridge, the skyline was unveiled. The city hushed, eyelids closed in slumber. The normal glow of skyscrapers was dimmed for a few short hours of rest before the early morning employees made their stand. It's an odd sight really. The steel is camouflaged against the blackened night sky, and you can only tell the buildings are there by subtle outlines. They tuck themselves in and curl up in the clouds and if you look closely, you can see their rhythmic breathing. Even now, the city is alive.

Continuing on, I made my way home knowing full well I too should be sleeping. When I turned onto 21st, I saw campus was dormant as the city. Even college students had now retreated into the arms of lovers, resting their heads on each others' chest, breathing together in sync. I had never felt so alone, nor so at peace. There were no distractions, no concerns, just a perfect quiet stillness... A bliss I haven't been graced with in entirely too long. I wish I could describe this better and really articulate my emotion, but per usual words cannot do it justice.

Later days, more early morning bliss.