Thomas Rosen

Good morning to me.


It was an early morning. The sun was still cold and the windows wet from the night. It wasn’t a steamy night inside. Just the normal spring temperature difference. Or maybe I just slowly need to get used to the temperature of the day first.

Oh and you know, in summer you want to have snow and in winter the sun is never hot enough? For me, summer is better. My brain functions like I want it to. But I wouldn’t know what I like about summer, if I would only ever experience perfect summer weather.

And of course four seasons aren’t enough. Of course I need a fifth. And probably way more seasons.

Who am I even? Should I put another costum on for the fifth season? Or do I know what I want? What costum am I wearing today? It’s not a costume. It’s just me. Me is not one thing I really understand. It’s multiple things.

I guess me is my dialog with me trying to find out what me is. That’s something for this day. Let’s just be me with me. On that a glass of orange juice.

PS: this was written at 2am on a train ride back home. on my way to my bed

Good morning to me.

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