I enjoy the late evening, very early morning. It's peaceful then...now. The only voices I hear are the ones in my head. The only distractions are my own thoughts debating each other. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, God gets a word in. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, clarity comes. Maybe even a little peace. If I'm not so fortunate, something else. Something like receiving or remembering bad news... "you didn't win," "you weren't picked" or..."they aren't coming back."
Truth or the distortion of it seems to know it will find me alone during these hours, alone and quiet. Silently, these longing to be discovered trills of smoke begin to fill the atmosphere in the room like a fog, making it very difficult to ignore their presence. And so it is here, in the dark while most sleep, that I browse calmly through the facts and fictions of my days desiring to discover...
The Truth, or the distortion of it.
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