The early morning haze, lifting gradually from the senses, light returning slowly to sight, and the body regaining feeling as if, for the first time, existing. It’s slow, at first; everything’s foggy. Then, as though turning a volume knob slowly to it’s maximum setting, noise returns to the otherwise silent world.
Nobody becomes mediocre on purpose – it just kind of happens, gradually over time, through a series of compromises and just good enoughs until, eventually, they’re no longer actively attempting to be even remotely good at something but rather just not bad. And then, even at that point, being not bad isn’t exactly being good, either.