I believe in staying up until 2am

allymmmounga
Oct 20, 2020
3 min read

Updated: Oct 24, 2020

Some nights, I spend hours watching the movie of someone else's life, their vlogs, and reading their biography, their blog. Indy Severe's, my twin flame. Instead of unplugging my lantern lights and pulling the tassel of the lamp that's been on some table for every season of my life, I do something else, whatever it is that I feel so drawn to.

Because, some nights, it feels just lovely to "Stretch & Study," sing to the plants, read my sweet little love stories or adventure books, and go to sleep before 10:30. But sometimes, that sounds awful, so I don't do it.

No, I stay up until three in the morning just reading, writing a novel about beautiful wonders and leaves and home, researching my latest fascination, painting, lying in my mom's bed (trying not to move too much so I won't wake her up) and watching Murder, She Wrote or Magnum, P.I. and working on my little Rubix cube.

Whatever silly thing I spent the night doing, always seems to have been monumental, when I look back three years later. I must feel so against sleep and drawn to spend hours doing these lovely, little late-night tasks because they're exactly what I'm supposed to be doing.

Tonight is one of those nights, the kind that I've spent reading Indy's blog posts after re-watching some of her videos from years ago. The first post that I landed on is the reason that I've needed to stay up late tonight. It's the arrow-shaped sign on my flowered, mountain trail, that reads This way now, baby.

So here I am,

knowing where to go next.

I've followed the path a bit, just enough to peak over the hill, and take in the raging river and meadow just past it that are only visible to those that walk up that trail.

And the whole landscape is a message to me, to be vulnerable and tell you the story that I haven't yet, my love story. So that's what I'll do. But for now, I'm going to walk back down the mountain and have a good night's rest, because I know that when I come back to explore that scene, I will be there for hours, and maybe I won't go home, after all.

(Update—October 22nd, just kidding. I’m not telling that story, sorry, bye!)

(Update—October 24th, actually, I will be. Each day, it’s felt more and more important to share... for you and for me.)

Now, I'm tucked in bed, and I have a few things that I'd normally write down as short little *notes* in my journal. Instead, I'll give them to you.

*It's around 1am that I decide to give in and fill a whole bowl with chocolate, peanut butter ice cream. I'm in it for the long haul tonight, guess I'll brush my teeth again.*

*I'm in my big, blue T-shirt, and kindest, laciest, delicates; the pajamas I love more than any nightgown or matching set. Of course, it's fall now, and my legs are quite chilly. It must be time to put the knee socks on. Good thing I have blue ones.*

*I've never really looked at my little map before, the one that tells me every city that someone's read my blog from this month. There are 22 cities, 7 States, and one reader in the sweet Philippines. It lights me up in a way that I've never felt before.*

*Isn't it in my nature to romanticize every aspect of this life? I love how slow my laptop is. I love that when I sit down to paint something beautiful, it's hideous, and when I'm looking at my sweet friend and talking about magic daydreams while mindlessly swirling a paintbrush, it's beautiful. I love the colored rocks in my window and jar of marbles on my bookshelf that my eccentric aunt sent with me. I love the moon, most of all.*