The hours of a day. They shift unexpectedly, alive with a mind of their own.

It is early and the sun rises, the city rumbles from its sleep and as your eyes open you feel anxious, or empty, or heavy with a dream that you cannot quite remember. It is as if a moment ago you finally knew something, but that has gone from you now. In that moment between sleep and life, you make a choice to face the day.

What is life but to know that every moment is a choice?
What is death but to live without knowing it?

And as you stir from your darkness, take a moment and breathe in. Stand and face the door to your bedroom before heading out into the world and prepare for the hours, the day that has a life of its own. Free it from your grasp and know that no matter what happens, the hours move on. The day passes. The night comes.

Sometimes I forget all this. Sometimes I wrap myself up in a moment that seems to have no end, a tunnel forgotten by time. There, it is impossible to walk out and light (life) disappears. There, there is no choice.

Yet somehow, without knowing it, I find myself free again. That is the nature of the hours, the moments that flow so unseemingly yet distinctly from one to the other, so intricate that their is no denying that they are alive.

And you talk, you anger, you laugh, you despair and on and on until the night comes and sleep takes hold of you. And in those hours of darkness, those hours that are an eternity, you finally remember that all of this is but a dream.

So when you awake, in that moment before the day arrives, remember what you knew in sleep, remember that the choice is in your hands. Breathe in before you face the hours, and know that their life is yours.