The silent hour of night holds me steady.

I am not sure if it is the amplified sound of each and every key that I type, or the echoing silence in the atmosphere, but whichever it is, it rings in my head, ominous and tiring, all mine.

While many sleep, they say this is the best time to be awake. Like traffic during the day, it is so hard to go about. But once night comes by, swings by and all sway to its call, alas, it is empty once more.

The irony, no thoughts swirl by behind my eyes, no burden hefting its weight, no worry pressing for attention, no problem seeking a solution, it is a blissful emptiness that resides within.

Within that emptiness, lies a secret held within myself. No words are necessary for this communing, merely an awareness and an intention. Like the wind whispering inaudible tales.

No concept of time bind me to reality, floating by in a dreamlike state, going by as I please, doing as I please, actions with no consequence to others but myself, on a whim, simply because.

I come and I go as I please, mercurial.