Slander the Culling

I suppose it also must be said that time has a different texture in the middle of the night.  I don’t always want to give up this intimacy with stolen moments, when there is no form of disturbance save whatever is percolating within.  Getting comfortable with whatever that is is part of what makes the unbearable effects almost bearable. But it is still three full stop fathoms away from stable and squared away.  Way down there in the depths.