…late at night.. around the time I like to call the witching hour. This witching hour isn’t so bad this time. Another is awake and communicating. I feel better knowing someone else is there. Knowing that I’m not alone.
Of course… I look around my room, with the dim blue light of my tower fan being the only light.. I’m physically alone. I understand that you can be physically alone but not be mentally alone.. tell me why I crave both?
There are things I miss. Things I wish I could have again. Things that could relax me like the strongest drug; could lull me into a serene state of being with the easiest of motions… but I don’t think I can ever have that again.
The mind of a broken man is.. well.. chaotic.