I’ve sat here for a while staring at the screen, attempting to write.  I’ve erased and retyped to no avail.  There are far too many things on my mind, and too many screenshots of life passing by.  The memories of good, and bad.  This is what happens when you try to sleep with a head full of anxiety.

The most I can really muster for now, is the view of the window behind me; as seen via reflection of my laptop screen.  Every time I take a breath, the scene moves up, and down.

I’m still tired.

#3ndtr@n$