🌜 The Art of My Late Awakening: A Personal Snooze Philosophy 

Every morning (or whatever counts as morning in my personal time zone), I perform an ancient ritual. It begins with me staring at the alarm, questioning its purpose in my life. “My dreams were just getting cinematic,” I mutter, tossing the phone into a pillow vortex and hoping it vanishes.

I don’t wake up late—I rise intentionally into a world that spins just fine without me rushing. There’s a certain poetry in sipping tea while others juggle deadlines. I’ve turned the chaos into choreography: mismatched socks, half-written to-do lists, and a strong belief that cereal is acceptable any time of day.

“I’m not behind,” I remind myself, “I’m ahead of my own plot.” 

Sure, I envy early risers… sometimes. But let’s be honest: have they ever written their next big idea at 2 AM, surrounded by silence and cookie crumbs? I do that. Often. “My creativity clocks in when the world clocks out,” I tell myself while sketching plans on napkins that may never resurface.

Sometimes I crave structure—a calm routine, early sleep, planned mornings. Not yet. But someday. 

🧠 Thought to Ponder: 
What if planning isn’t about waking up early… but waking up to who you really are?