Act 19: Sleepless

There is a certain time in the darkness when the moon hangs high in the cold sky and night and morning loose meaning and become one. When a peace falls over the sleepless, the eternal restless, the insomniacs of the world, when all hope of entering slumber is gone and that hopeless feeling is replaced by serenity. All of the sudden you start to laugh at the futility of it all let out a chuckle and resign your fate. This is a feeling reserved for us few who truly belong without sleep. There are those that have a bad night or two when the stress and the furious pace of life is too much to let the brain sleep they who complain around the proverbial water cooler about what a crappy night they had and how no one could understand how hard it is on them. To those of you who have suffered I am sorry. But this message is not for you. You are the same as those who miss a lunch and think they are starving. But this is for us few who survive on scraps alone, those of us who can’t remember what two nights of good sleep together feels like, my brothers and sisters of the night. Those who know the cool embrace of darkness and unforgiving starlight that dances and sways teases and tantalizes but never lets us forget the burning in our eyes when we blink or the yearning in our souls for release from the cruel mistress of our fates. So to you my brothers and sisters of the black I say this, you are not alone though those around you may not see as we do. We are out there we share the slumber of the damned we laugh and cry as you do at the in-betweens when night and morning loose meaning. We are there laughing like mad men at the night. The black under our eyes a badge of honor for a war fought and lost and fought again. Our struggles the same our fates entwined. To those few who understand this I mourn for you, and bid you goodnight.