Too little sleep. Vodka in the small hours. My thoughts are frayed and bewildered. I am beset by unreasonable fears. And a wild, warm hope. Something is moving out there. Sometimes I can almost see it.
Too little sleep. Vodka in the small hours. My thoughts are frayed and bewildered. I am beset by unreasonable fears. And a wild, warm hope. Something is moving out there. Sometimes I can almost see it.
Nathan Ballingrud 
I am somewhat alarmed by this melancholy post.
All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.