Insomnia. Pure and simple it seems. Circadian rhythms fail and human rhythms prevail.
The sun is cracking the gray sky as I write. Through the blinds I see the silhouettes of the final buildings before the lake. Framed in birthing light they hide their facades. Details lost by trickery and abstract ocular computation.
I don’t remember a full day of natural rays. My body has adjusted accordingly. Joy has been replaced with melancholy. Human relation has become sparse.
Slumber needs to find me. I’m not hiding. I feel like the kid someone forgot during hide-and-seek.
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