3 A.M. thoughts. The plague that haunts my generation. it's such an odd time. Not quite morning, and no longer night. The peacefulness scares me. I love it and hate it at the same time. I could lay here forever. Listen to the rain pitter patter on the concrete steps. Hear the rolling thunder shake the house. Pause for the small sigh from my father as he sleeps in the next room. Sleep well, I'll be here when you wake.
YOU ARE READING
Excerpts From A Book I'll Never Write
РазноеJust thoughts and small ideas I've had. Some sad. Some memories. Some...nothing.
