It's so quiet tonight I can hear the electricity of the lamps on the street through my open window.
I'm sitting, legs crossed on my bed, partially wet hair on either side of my face.
I feel restless, I want to do anything but sit still, much less go to sleep.
It's 4:30 in the morning and I haven't slept yet.
I'm listening to music, I want to sketch something but it's too dark.
The smoothness of notebook paper on dry fingertips.
I run my nails over a cut on my hand, remember the ample scratches on my legs.
Birds singing.
Darkness, absence of light, indecision.