I have a love/hate relationship with my bed.
I rarely sleep in it, but I lie in it a lot, looking out this window. If you spend enough time staring at the wall, you start to have strange thoughts. Wonder how many photographs you could take from your bed. Wonder whether you could turn a character flaw into a lucrative income — a book of photographs shot from beneath a cocoon of flannel. Wonder why there is a barn in the middle of a busy downtown neighborhood.
Wonder how you can be bone-tired yet sleepless. Wonder why you do this. Wonder when morning will come.
Music of the day: In the End by Linkin Park