It's 1:11am. The silence is beautiful. I'm watching the snow fall outside my window, wondering when I had been in such a cold, warm, quiet environment the last time. Time is slowing down and there's nothing out there, nothing but myself, my little dog and my mother sleeping in the next room. It's quiet, peaceful, empty. I am not bound by people. I am not bound by feelings. I am not bound by myself. I am free. I choose to keep the peace, keep the silence and the stillness as the storm snarls in glory and whips away warm nights.

It's 1:22 am. I hear midnight retreating, morning approaching... The spirit trudges on through the snow, boot heels clicking against eachother, scarf flowing in the snow's reckless dances. Hair blows wildly with the screams of the wind. Eyes open, heated embers sizzle to life, a burning glow  through any storm.

It's 1:36 am. I don't know what to feel, I don't know how I feel.
I should be going to bed, I don't want to.
I lay in bed, tired, not tired.
I am cold, I am not cold.
I can see the snow. I can't see much because of it.
My eyes are closing, my phone slips out of my hands... I hear the sounds, Sleep is within me; I am taken over by now...