The day is almost gone. Soon, tomorrow will come to me and I will have to shake hands with the future. As I gaze into the distance, the present becomes the past. Tick-Tock. The night waits me out to become the day. I am here, in between, and it seems such a strange place to be. Not sleeping and not waking. I must search through the silence, for the sound of guilt or the sighs of pride; for the memories stored and lurking, waiting to call on me. All I want is to be warmed, to feel life, to feel love, to cherish the prospect of waking, not of forstalling it. I cry inside, feel inside, to remember only love and the good I might have once done. I twist and turn as the mind conjures up the to-do list and decisions necessary to survive the new days' challenges. I can not stop thinking that it is coming.
