the night

in this quite quiet of the night, when sleep's deserted me like some of the others, I remember.

the reality hits hard sometimes, and these are some of the ocassions.

when it is very night-like, and it is darker than ink and it is pouring from the skies.

i remember.

and the memories hit harder than the reality. the nostalgia is steeper than the pain.

i wonder what makes me feel what I feel at this very moment. probably it is the old pictures. probably some thing else.

this is pleasure. this is good. this forebodes what i think will happen in the future.

or it is just the night having it's effect on me.

but i do remember. i dont forget.