It's 2 a.m. I can't sleep. Probably because I slept for most of the day.
Not normal, I know.
I hope I'm just getting sick with a cold or something. There are other, more ominous things that could be happening to my body, so I choose to delude myself into believing that it's just an oncoming cold. Something benign and transient, something I could survive.
Ah, sweet denial, my erstwhile f(r)iend. It's been too long since last we met.
I like the silent stillness of this hour. Nearly polar opposite of my life 12 hours ago - the midday counterpart to this nighttime solace.
I like the steady ticking of my roman numeral clock. I like the patter of rain on my window. I like how the artificial light from the streets reflects back down to earth off the thick cloud cover, giving the world a melancholy illumination.
I think I would enjoy being nocturnal.
I want to harvest as many of these still hours as I can. There's a potential here to get the things done that I wasn't able to even approach during the day. As soon as the sun comes up the world will begin moving faster, and I'll get left behind again.
My soul is ragged and raw, but there's no need to try to conceal it from anyone. I'm the only one here. I can be. A small revelation, perhaps, but it has freed me from considerable anxiety.
I didn't realize I was carrying so much anxiety. Such a weight.
It's good to (finally) be alone.
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