When I was young, my mom used to find me wandering around the house in the middle of the night...this progressed to actually leaving the house and wandering around the backyard... until one early morning she got a call from the neighbors saying they had found me sitting on their porch...after that, my parents put a lock on my bedroom door because they were afraid I might wander off and not come back...
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Someone left a letter for me yesterday -- pushed through the mail slot onto the entry hall floor. I have yet to open it.
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Lack of balance...is it really fair that you drink all of this in and hand me back an empty cup?
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I am currently made of equal parts stoicism and yearning.
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I'm going back to bed now.