Posted: September 16, 2016 in Uncategorized

I’m awake now

Have been for some time

It’s 2:30

The time when writing is supposed to take place

Or so i’m told

But tonight


A weightiness has descended on me

A foreboding

A fogginess that conceals that from which it emanates

And i sense conflict is ahead, or battle, or attack, or turmoil. . .

Some vague enemy, not yet revealed, but already on the hunt

Concealed by the fog, obscured by the mist, diffused by the present, biding its time, waiting for its opportunity to emerge

Good night


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