Little voice in my ear says to go.

I would. But.

I filed all my papers today. I can finally see the surface of my desk.
Found the handwritten draft of a poem that I never could find a home for. I almost never handwrite things. Although, when I see things I have written…I like to look at the letters. At least, I do if it is a short note. I don’t really like my handwriting that much.

It’s not a real place.

I haven’t had anything today with caffeine in it. Feels like something is puncturing my skull.
All I have left to do now is write my epic-length email, and (maybe) go to bed. I may read something, too.

I remember being a time when the light is fading, and everything is blue. It was one of my names. Haven’t been that in a long time. Or even seen it. Just a little greyish daytime, and night. And I have seen so much night that it isn’t even dark anymore. I feel weird, being awake in the day…

So I’m set on vampire hours. So what. It used to be something else. It was always this though. Always.