May 19, 2005.
I am safe in my bed now. Safe from the suffocating drudgery of the morning rush hours. So many robots - underslept, overworked, marching off to an uninspired existence.
The sunlight so bright it sickens me. The dirty yellow of the subway station walls. WHERE ARE YOU MARCHING TO?
No, this morning time is not my time. I have learned this time and again. It's best to be hidden here, sleeping, or cooking or cleaning or meditating away from those terrible people on the early morning train.
There is something to be said for morning though.
It is the one time of day it is not too late.