two (or is it three...?) weeks in to the overnight shift and never have i wanted to wash myself in the golden rays of that nearest star our sun more than i do now as the ineradicable cloak of night stretches itself over these my newly waking hours. this night i feel massive but diffuse, like the ghost of a glacier lingering amongst the scablands; nebulous and immense, like a short-circuited god-machine cannibalizing itself in a forgotten corner of the universe. the sleep is broken, the mind needs rest. the mind needs rest.