It's late

My room is black as night apart from the warm hue of a single streetlight peeking its way through my glazed window

Faint music can be heard in the background

My hair, still wet from the shower, drips down my back

My mind is racing

Anticipation, philosophy, and a hint of pessimistic sarcasm infuse my thoughts

The world outside isn't as vibrant and lively as it is during the day

Nonetheless, the tranquility of the night brings a beauty of its own

I become conscious of time again

It is as if it disappears during the day among all the chaos and then resurfaces in ones mind once the hour is late

It feels so present, as if the clock of the universe has just begun ticking

I find that the evening brings upon me a peaceful uneasyness

A world entirely its own

As strange as it is intriguing

The night invites us to ponder the wonders of the world and allows our creativity to flourish in the silence

Ideas, revalations, epiphanies

The mundane rests while infinite imagination is more alive than ever