To You who Sips Coffee in the Morning

Before you continue, listen to "Joanie" by Clairo.

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I never loved mornings the way you do.

I’ve always been a nocturnal person, finding comfort in the pleasure of my thoughts at 2 AM and feeling the coldness of physical loneliness inside my room. This time of the day is where my inner self is the loudest, and I’m addicted to the sense of philosophical belongingness in midnight conversations.

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But for you, the morning is your friend. Maybe that’s why you love coffee because they go hand-in-hand together. I can picture you with a book in hand, sipping an americano embraced by the winds of trees around your house. I get how beautiful it must feel, but I always resort to extend my sleep and bury myself in the warmth of my bed.

It would make sense, eventually, that I was able to befriend morning myself. You introduce her to me ever so slowly, featuring the best parts of her persona day by day. I remember you brought her to our laughter when I cooked an ugly sunny-side-up and took our first photos together. She was with us when we had breakfast in the café one time before work, as we find precious little time in this eventful world. I recently spent my time with her as I make my way to you, and now as I’m writing it, as I return to my world.

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I am traveling towards the city at 4:30 AM with the artist you introduced to me on repeat. This is not the first time I have traveled early, but this was one of the few times I paid attention. I’ve never seen the calmness of the streets in this particular way. I mean, at midnight, the roads are pretty quiet themselves, but the tranquility of the morning roads lacked the sense of rush. It feels slow. Domestic. Sometimes the rush brings the poet, but not always the authenticity. This morning give me the latter.

As I paid close to how the morning looked, I realized how its features also describe you. You are, in a lot of ways, like morning. As the distance of my travel to my destination gets shorter and shorter, the persona I imagined in the morning merged into you: the daint sunlight in every cuddle, kiss, and hug; the contentment as we sit in silence; and the lack of anxiety in the way you hold my hand, listen, and smile.

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I fell in love with morning because it reminds me of you. The smell of coffee, feeling of tranquility, right kind of air, soft music, beautiful sky, slow shower, the chance to start again. In retrospect, you give me the sense of belongingness that washes all my insecurities away. With you, I spend time in peace. Lightness. Security. Comfort. I have never felt this sense of ease like early morning gives. But you’re morning. You’re peace.

I’m still a nocturnal person, and I bet I would find myself still trapped in slumber as I catch up on rest from our late-night conversations and money tracking. I still love the sense of rush and melodrama of evenings and midnight. I can be your evening, your poet, your lover – whatever that means for you.

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As I soon arrived at my destination, the music I listened to reached a particular interlude that elevated the morning scene. The opening of the doors. Two girls hugging. Sleeping in the cab. Empty gasoline stations. Amiable. Unruffled. Happy. It’s all vibrant to me now.

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There is good in the morning.

The Guy who Bathes Coffee in the Moonlight

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Thank you for swimming freely in my random thoughts. My name is Eu, and I am happy to have known you spent a little bit of your time reading my contemplations. I hope you enjoy my endeavor of making this platform somewhat a diary for my significant experiences. I also do blogs on my travels, volunteerism, teaching, entrepreneurship, self-improvement, and literature. If you like this, do check my other posts.

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