"But three, now, Christ, three a.m.! Doctors say the body’s at low tide
then. The soul is out. The blood moves slow. You’re the nearest to dead
you’ll ever be save dying. Sleep is a patch of death, but three in the
morn, full wide-eyed staring, is living death! You dream with your eyes
open. God, if you had strength to rouse up, you’d slaughter your
half-dreams with buckshot! But no, you lie pinned to a deep well-bottom
that’s burned dry. The moon rolls by to look at you down there, with its
idiot face. It’s a long way back to sunset, a far way on to dawn ..."
-- Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes
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| Self portrait 3-12-13 |
Sleepless.
Again.
Grrrrrr.
On the brighter side of being wide awake at 3 a.m., I got to watch that new episode of
Pawn Stars (Chumlee lost 5 pounds and Steve Carell dropped by the pawn shop).
So, there's that.
Jesus. Just shoot me.
