I’d finally gotten into the damn swing of the book I’d been reading for months – on page 164 of Vagabond.
And then, I discovered the Language of Eleven – when I finally got into Stranger Things.
And then – tonight of all nights – the very first page I wrote for a book I started nearly five years ago, finds itself in the second installment of what feels like a series – on page 343 of The Journals of He : Book 2.
Everything just seems to come together in the dead of night at odd hours when everybody else is asleep
But I am not… These are the times, aren’t they?
When conversations go from – “Do you like bread?”
“There was a time things got so dark, I actually wished myself dead…”
What is it about the late nights that make
The desires and vices and evils
I don’t know –
I almost don’t care!
But that is what I long for when I look at you.
When we talk while the sun shines
And everyone’s paying attention
And they’re all eyes –
I wish for 3am
And I wish that I could find you there –