couldn't sleep and woke up at 8am. thoughts rushing in with freight train momentum, a concave ceiling dotted with stars of people that i've met over the years, slowly descending but coming in all at once. i can feel the butt on my chair, but am transient in substance as the back of my mind is awash with faces of old acquaintances that greet me in a neverending stream of recollection. i wonder how they're doing. are you out there?

in the strange morning silence comes a brief moment where i'm a passerby in my own life, a stranger to my own comforts.