i write from the stomach.

For some reason I put off sleep when alone. Like like there is some reason to be awake. Maybe it is a desire to not sleep alone, like like if I wait here long enough, your plane will land, you will disembark, you will open the door and make this cold, dark room warm.

In other news, the gray sheets do do quite fit the grey bed, fasting is the new eating pork, and I am still working on my knife skills in case I am called up to the whittling championships.