Sleep.

This appears to be another of those... I wish to all that will listen that I could sleep but I cannot so I will randomly write... kind of nights.

I don't really have that much to say. It's been a relatively uneventful week, and most of my creativity has gone into at least attempting to sketch out some kind of outline for the beginning of NaNoWriMo in two weeks. ha. My insomnia will only grow when I have to write at least an average of 1,500 words a day. But then, I wrote most of Are in 2 parts over two nights, and that's 16,000 words, so that's 8,000 words in one night.

I love night time. It's peaceful and quiet, but not always in a good way. For a long time I've been afraid of it, and I know it's ridiculous, because at present I'm as safe as I'll ever be, behind two locked doors and two carded doors and a window I wouldn't even attempt to climb out of, let alone blindly into. Another of the random hang ups that remain from last summer.

It's like silence
An ever present nagging sensation
Wrapped in silky velvet skies
Ceases to push against
And pulls you towards
A lull, a moment, an instant
In which all is well
And fear is squashed.