Nikolai Gogol, I Finally Get It

Oh, the darkness just off Holgate creeps and creeps and creeps, shushing and insinuating like something you can't help but look at. You cannot turn away from what you are, this Dark, this Dark that filters in all round and makes you wonder whether or not anything you believe at all is not just a learned behavior.

It gets difficult to hold on to anything at this hour, in this kind of darkness, after this afternoon. If I can get through the next five hours of sleep and usual bolt-up-writing session that is the following three, all will be well.

Until then, all is this darkness and glow, until I can sing no more. I've tried. I give up. It was too much. Only sleep now, and the fervent prayer that Tomorrow looks nothing like Today.