Birds and Biscuits

Sitting on the bed and munching on the driest biscuit possible, Thoughts were allowed to come.
The eerie silence and a piercing cry from somewhere won't stop me from eating the last biscuit. I look at the Tea that has gone cold but striving to maintain the colour that might go dark. How different am I from that Tea?
Is this a question for me or the Tea?
If I am allowed to think at 3AM, this will be the musings of my mind that doesn't wander much.
Dawn will be there soon and the birds have started chirping early. In this world that strives for discipline and uniformity, no one follows the norm, not even the bird singing when the sky is pitch dark. Is it the sound that dissipates the darkness?
The timer in my phone shows 3.15. Fifteen minutes of absolute peace. Why do I find bliss at 3 AM with a biscuit I hate and a tea bag dipped in water?
I am not talking about life lessons. I just need my space and my moment and I wish I could hear the sound of the early morning. No, I will be sleeping.
Because this is Life. There you go, your life lesson.