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You know that glorious moment in between sleep and waking up. It lasts for few seconds, may be even less. You are not sleeping anymore but you are not really awake yet either. many writers have expressed this in great details. Among the best of them Marcel Proust.
I woke up today, this morning, and while still in that gap of time, i had that weird feeling. There was something missing, something strange. It was not a feeling of pain, but of a loss. At the same time, it was also a feeling of relief, shall i say release, may be even liberation - of some calmness after the storm. I cant say that was or wasn't a direct result of Milan's last game. For that we will need Proust, Dr. Freud or at least wait till Dr Manuel is back from San Siro. But it was a distinct feeling I havent had in ages.
Then I woke up fully, and my head was full with my life again. Work, family, Milan, etc.
It was a weird morning. But also quite a sharp one. You know ...
I woke up today, this morning, and while still in that gap of time, i had that weird feeling. There was something missing, something strange. It was not a feeling of pain, but of a loss. At the same time, it was also a feeling of relief, shall i say release, may be even liberation - of some calmness after the storm. I cant say that was or wasn't a direct result of Milan's last game. For that we will need Proust, Dr. Freud or at least wait till Dr Manuel is back from San Siro. But it was a distinct feeling I havent had in ages.
Then I woke up fully, and my head was full with my life again. Work, family, Milan, etc.
It was a weird morning. But also quite a sharp one. You know ...