It was quiet that night
The night of the storm.
The boom rattle slap of the windows was
Silent.

It was quiet that night
The night of the storm.
The dry heaves of panic were
Silent.

It was quiet that night
The night of the storm.
The tick of the clock seemed quite
Violent.

It was quiet that night
The night I was born.
I now sit, alone, helping
Clients.

It was quiet that night
The night of the storm.
The boom rattle slap of the windows was
Silent.

I slept with the thought I would never quite sleep
When my mind works the night-shift, and my thoughts flit and creep
From the back of a wavelength, to the edge of the steep
Steep
Steep drop at the edge of my cup of steeped tea.

Sleepytime camomile
My whole life I've been wide-eyed
Asleep.

Gladly I sat and remembered
You were never quite here to begin with.

Gladly and madly I sat and remembered
I am never quite here to begin with.

Proverbs!
What do you want, my wisdom?
My individual wisdom immortalized for soul and mind
Given credibility by a dash
Followed by my
Ego-steeped identity?

Proverbs!
Perhaps I was more honest in momentary transience
Than I could ever be consistently.

Who needs ideals
When all of it is here
Right now?

Some times
I feel like I'm masking me
with

me.

It's not fake
but
it's a mask
and I molded it

several seconds ago

and I wear it
pretending I'm the same person

several seconds later.

I work

Faster than I work

So I trip

on

e

v

e

r

y

little



w

     o

          r

               d

(period.)



I see

                    s

       i

                         g

              h

                              t



itself.



Little floaters and

M o v e e ee  ee e e ee e me n ts

Like the pixels

on a

television screen.



1080p looks better than what I’ve really ever seen

Sometimes I feel

it’s only real

if it’s

a



p

   h

       o

           t

               o

     graph.

I am the
Voluntary insomniac.

I suffer from no such misfortune.
Midnight to 3 is a blessing,
At night, I'm reality's surgeon.

Delving head-first into current events,
And philosophies of East and of West;
Jack Kerouac and Jean Paul-Sarte have me sweating;
And I look forward to Alan Watts next.

Lets discover it all!
How exciting it is,
I've been privileged as I am alive.

I read and I write,
Walk dark streets on some nights,
And on others, I lay and watch stars.

I am the
Voluntary insomniac.

On some nights I sit and sip tea,
Read Al-Jazeera's new headlines,
And depart upon intellects sea.

In the depth of the night
I become everything;
Every person, every move, every sound.

Every taste, every touch, every feeling, every thought,
I am the stars, the ocean, the ground.

In the present I become the future and past
And explore the great misunderstood;
Everything becomes clear as my boat starts to steer,
And my feet waver from where they once stood.

And on every sweet night, it doesn't matter how far
My ship crossed infinity's sea,
I am lost on open water forever;
I adventure eternally.