Being Here Tonight

Edit: What do you do when it's freezing in your apartment, it's 2AM, you can't sleep, and the servers are down? There's always work, I suppose -- technically this could all wait until tomorrow, but getting that 4am timestamp in your email really wins you serious brownie points with the upper management. Besides, even if they don't notice, which is entirely likely since they all work the same ridiculous hours anyway, you get the admittedly empty moral victory of having finished something ahead of schedule, and the added bonus of being able to nap at work with impunity.

Tonight is nothing compared to Saturday, however -- I can't even begin to describe it. It's a horrible feeling when you're sick, tired, and you feel like splitting your head open on a sharp rock just to alleviate the pressure -- and all of the physical ailments only sit on the surface of a already crumbling foundation of personal relationships, falling like dominoes, one after the other. The last straw is when you realize that there's no one you can call, no one around to reach out to -- literally no one to hear you scream. It's a very sobering feeling to realize that no matter what else happens tonight, you're the only one that will ever know about it.

The mix, I suppose, is my way of trying to put a label on the experience.

The wind has picked up tonight, and I hear the sound of leaves being flung against the windows. In a few hours the train will start. The wind sounds almost like air raid sirens at this hour.

In the immortal words of Valerie Solanas:
"I dedicate this play to ME,
A continuous source of strength and guidance,
And without whose unflinching loyalty, devotion and faith
This play could never have been written.
Additional acknowledgements: myself­
For proofreading, editorial comment, helpful hints, criticism and suggestions
And an exquisite job of typing."