It's late. It's cold... The office lights are stinging my eyes. Is this new? Is this reality almost a comfort in its familiarity?
Perhaps.
Just perhaps?
Yes, for now. Why are you making waves tonight, inner voice?
..because I remember all too well. And so do you. You give off this pretense of casual acceptance and the hunky dory okayness of someone who hasn't ever picked up a pen or found a small thrill at the sound of the keyboard click click clicking..
But we know better, don't we?
Yeah.
....
Current lyrics spinning in my noggin at 78rpms:
The Dreamer, the unwoken fool
In dreams, no pain will kiss the brow
The love of ages fills the head
The days that linger there in prey of emptiness
Of burned out dreams
The minutes calling through the years
The universal dreamer rises up above his earthly burden
Journey to the dead of night
High on a hill in Eldorado
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