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 ^{(it's beta!)}

I found myself, by night, lying (possibly dreaming, I’m not sure anymore) and with the profound sense that the edges of the dark were frayed and torn and beaten by the day. Absurd was the phrase for it half-awake and counting the stucco on my ceiling finding shapes and pictures in white, poorly-clustered stars above. Between frozen sheets and an armada of blankets a young man with cold ears and a sniffle and a worried nervousness and wary eye he cannot shake, even in the silence. Tonight will be different I will bring a yellow notepad and pen and a flashlight that works if I threaten it with egregious structural harm. Things will be written on the pad, shoddily and hurriedly for fear of escape I will be writing them, possibly awake and most likely hallucinating it. With the rise of the sun I will read these worries properly and laugh at how they doggedly followed me through the twilight Finally, I will dispose of them through means of flight or fire or I will keep them somewhere and possibly print them out when I’m feeling lazy.