You know this feeling. Clock hands spinning, digital reds blinking. The representation of time does not matter, only that it’s dwindling, seconds slipping faster than you can count sheep clearing fences & fading into oblivion – the place you’d rather be. You keep wondering what you could have said, should have done, differently. Mind racing, thoughts a maddening rush of missed punctuation & comma splices, but there’s no grammatically correct way to go crazy, is there? You, your limbs, tangled up in sheets, in an oversized bed that suddenly seems much too big for your solitary body, feeling more alone than you’ve ever been, knowing that morning light is going to hit you hard as whiskey, wondering if tomorrow will bring closure. It won’t. Closure is something you give yourself. It doesn’t come in the form of excuses or apologies that are just as empty as the person who failed you. Stop wondering, stop your wild thoughts. Stop feeling alone when you’re not. Because these cruel hours are no stranger to me. You see, I’m up too.

— intergalartic

(photograph: Mona Kuhn)

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