Late for a weeknight. But I’m awake in the dark, so what the hell. I’ll write.
Anything I’ve written lately that’s worth reading isn’t readable. So it sits there all restless trying to get me to notice it. I pretend I don’t see it. I deny it exposure. It’s good to have at least that much control over my words—I generally give in to them.
I’m listening to music I never knew existed, and the space around me feels skewed. I’m sort of dizzy. Gonna close my eyes and drift.