It's midnight. And I have things to do in the morning.
Make Me Go To Bed!
On a totally different yet somewhat related note: grief and loneliness are strange emotions. Deceptively easy to define; it doesn't make them predictable.
On second thought, I'd rather not contemplate them at all. To do so would be to admit that I have fallen victim, easy prey, to their harsh blows and razor swipes. To do that would be do admit that I'm...human. (perish the thought!)
Even after trying so hard, and for so long, to be super-human. I'm too smart for emotions. I know exactly what's going on - it's a natural, albeit unreasonable, chemical reaction that will soon pass. Knowledge is power, but it doesn't take away all pain.
I'm rambling.
It feels good to ramble.
It would feel better to be asleep.
Fare thee well, fellow interweb wanderers. Maybe you'll get lucky and next time I'll tell you an actual story. Or perchance we could delve deeper into the realms of grief and loneliness.
I'm reading Arabian Nights: Tales from 1,001 Nights and it's affecting my...uh...crap! What's the word I'm looking for? ...my patterns of speech? Or writing?
And there's my cue to go to bed.
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