I want to go to sleep at a reasonable hour.
I want to go to bed at a fixed time.
I want to get my hours of sleep.
I want to wake up early enough that I am not woken up by the doorbell ringing.
And yet, the mystery of bedtime continues to be one.
What is it about night time that I love so much? Gaming peacefully after a long day? Or, is it the pretty, silent blue light coming into my room from the windows — all human-made lights off. Or, or, or… is it the need to take revenge on how awful my days are?
Something tells me it’s the last one.
These thoughts don’t stop.
Will they ever?
Me doodling yesterday.
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