Nothing is criminal in the evening

Ok fine there are plenty of criminal things to do in the evening. Don't do those. Don't choke your neighbors. Don't steal. Don't lie. And most important of all, don't kill anyone.

I'm here talking about something else entirely: what we allow our souls to do. Evening lets our souls do things that would feel embarrassing, even criminal, in daylight. But the opposite is not true. The day generously shares its domain with the evening. There is nothing we do during the day, that is criminal to do in the evening. Confusing? Let me give you examples.

In the morning, we eat eggs, exercise, write emails, work, read non-fiction, and listen to Fairuz (the undisputed anthem of Arab mornings). You can do all of these in the evening too. The morning claims no sovereignty. Whatever belongs to morning can slip into night without trouble.

Meanwhile, the night guards some experiences that the day cannot contain. Let's take a look:

• Reading Fernando Pessoa. We need the evening's delirium to get this man. Our morning minds are too ordered and functional. They can't properly inhabit his philosophical sphere.
• Listening to the song Pixie's Parasol. This is an evening song for me. You also have an evening song for yourself. You know this. Don't lie (as I mentioned above, lying is not permissible day or night).
• Looking myself in the mirror, accidentally for one second too long. And getting alarmed. The fright comes not from vanity or disgust, but from the sudden vertigo of encountering a face - my face. I have defined outlines. All this time walking in the world, I've had a face.
• Solitary dances in empty rooms. If I do that in the morning, I will be a crazy lady.
• Weeping because of the excess love for my nieces and Asmaa. Not just missing them. But loving them too much. It's overwhelming for the heart of a small lady. Getting struck by the impossible fact that my father was once a toddler. Ah my beautiful father. I wish I was your mother. Crying for friends' unfulfilled desires. Morning permits love, yes, but not this existential depth.
• Confessing the silliest childhood wounds to a lover: in elementary school, a kid made fun of my lunch and now I can't have that food again. Telling that story crying, and then your lover cries with you (this is a placeholder, use your own story). But you get the point. we are not stupid like that in the morning!!!!
• Drinking (not that I like it either way, but as an example).