Tired

I missed the days when I would wake up early on my own volition. When I would greet each new day with an unfettered ebullience. I was a morning person without any assistance from caffeine. Gosh, I miss those days when nothing carries over, it is a blank slate. I could have gone to bed the night before crying (usually because I was punished for something), comes morning all is forgotten, I am happy again, ready for new adventures that await. 

Those days are ancient history. Now, waking up early becomes a chore. I have become dependent on the steady beep of the alarm clock to guide me out of my slumber. And even when I am up and seemingly functional, the reality is I am not. My soul barely clinging to my being like a shirt half-dressed- unbuttoned, untucked, ruffled, wrinkled and flailing in the wind.  

They say it takes more muscles to frown than to smile, I don't know if there is scientific proof to that, but I can tell you that I consciously feel my face sag as the day progress. So much so that I may began the day with a plastic smile (yes, plastic, because it stops just below the eyes, and the cheeks twitched with the effort), and as the day progresses, it will slowly melt to a grimace and eventually a frown by the end of the day. That is unless I reactivate the facial muscles again with the aid of some coffee or red bull. No joke.

It is quite unbecoming to be honest. Everyone should be entitled a fresh start, to be free from previous day's burden. Yet, that is not the case. As we grow older, we seem to take on more; the residuals of yesteryears weighing us down. Accumulating, sedimenting like an unchanged baby's diaper- ready to burst and spew all nearby with Class A toxic human waste. There has got to be a way to regain that youthful zest. 

I am searching for it, if you have found the method, let me know.