Waking up morni…

Waking up mornings brings with it untold suffering, and the suffering lingers on. In the morning, blaring accords of light roar through the streets, and not the frosted window panes, not the heavy, colorful drapes afford relief, for its rasping, precipitate rhythms penetrate everything, and beckon to you. You have no choice but to go, to go among low-statured human beings with unpleasant countenances who are convinced that this vile and unrelenting music is what life is all about, and that what they are about is called living.

Géza Csáth on the wonderful thing called morning, from his story “Opium”.


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