I have a natural impulse to resist the morning when I’ve stayed up all
night. If I must exist in this sleepless state, it should at least
stay dark.
Light is taunting and lurid.

My greatest regret is to have no control over the time of day.
It is only each individual day that limits me. I could do anything
had I the ability to change light into darkness, darkness into light.

If it were springtime again, perhaps even sleeplessmornings would be adorned with blooming flowers; but it is late

summer, nearly fall, and everything, as a matter of course, is

beginning to die.