The body never lies
It’s just before six in the morning. It’s still cool in the room, and the light outside is only just starting to find its way through the blinds. There’s this short, strange moment right after waking up where my mind hasn’t yet started scrolling through the to-do list, the worries of the day, or yesterday's memories. In those few seconds, I am just breath, warmth under the covers, a sense of weight on the mattress. Pure existence. Then my head switches on, and the usual noise begins. For a long time, I lived like that - entirely on the top floor of my own body. I had turned into a walking mind that viewed its physical shell simply as some kind of transportation vehicle for the head . The body was supposed to get me from point A to point B, endure eight hours of sitting in front of a computer, not get sick at an inconvenient time, and above all - not get in the way of my productivity. If I was exhausted, I drank another coffee. If something hurt, I took a pill to make it shut up. I ...
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