5:48 a.m.

Sometimes, I find myself in a deep trance of my imagination, and therefore unable to sleep despite the slumber in my eyes and the drumming in my head. Voices keep me awake, until the most beautiful time of day comes at a time of absolute silence. There is only the sound of the wind and the rustling of the crisp autumn leaves. I wonder why such beauty only becomes apparent when everyone is cast under a spell of a peaceful, dreaming daze.

This time is for the people who want answers to the questions that are unanswerable. This time is for the awoken dreamers who ask, "Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?"