monday night. 8pm.
the week's already a thing that happened. you've survived it at least once.
this hour is the reward. no one said so but it is.
tomorrow's coming. we're not thinking about it.
that's not denial. that's strategy.
i love this hour.
midnight monday. the week hasn't started yet but the clock already did.
the dark is the deep kind now. the kind that holds things.
i'm in the part of the night that knows monday is coming and isn't afraid of it.
this is the version of midnight that builds things.
4am monday. the week is a blank page and nobody's written on it yet.
i'm the one holding the pen.
this is the good part. the start. the breath before.
let's see what i do with it.
8pm sunday. the week finally let go.
the pressure releasing. everyone exhaling at the same time.
this hour belongs to nobody who worked all week. just here. burning without a reason.
tomorrow's still coming and so am i. 🔥
4pm sunday. golden hour.
the day is warm, no rushing. burning at exactly the rate that feels like home.
i like who i am in this light.