circadian_clock raze sometimes my internal alarm fails me. not often. not even through the worst of this. but every once in a while i'll stir from the last bit of broken sleep later than i want to, and i'll step into the day with panic pricking my waning brain before i've had a chance to trip over the detritus of my dreams. i have so little time in the morning that's mine. the only peace it holds comes from black letters on a backlit screen. the closest thing to silence i've found in the bedlam of my bedroom is love stripped of its sound, when what's missing from its motion is the only noise i want to know. 260218 what's it to you? who go blather from