The ugliness of my day inspires me to stay up all night if only to slow the return of another.
The longer I sit, ignoring sleep, the more difficult my tomorrow becomes.
But the idea of closing my eyes, when next they would open to sunshine and appointments and life, keeps me downstairs in the dark.
I watch television and the clock in the foolish hope that my insomnia will dull the onslaught of responsibility found in every sunrise.
The quiet is safe and dull.
I cannot disappoint anyone here.