I wake up feeling surprisingly rejuvinated. With the smell of cigarette smoke lingering throughout my bedroom due to its resonation in my dirty blonde hair. A scent which will stick to my sheets and fingertips like glue for a day, maybe two. The taste of Ketel One still loitering on my tongue and the roof of my mouth. My bedroom a disaster with sweaters and tights, boots and flats, hats and scarves scattered amongst the very little available floor space. My bedroom window providing a view of blue skies and bluff tops, which distributes sunlight throughout this mess; my mess. This December sunlight, though, somehow converts my unorganized and cluttered life into something enjoyable, satisfying. Even pleasant.
And I feel content.