Awake

Well, this hasn't happened in a long while. I can't actually remember (and Google cannot find, bah) the last occasion on which I was awake at this time because of insomnia - as opposed to still being awake at G's father's party.

It's a pretty morning night, the sky is clear and full of stars, the air is still and not too cold to stand on the balcony in my housecoat. A slender bright-orange crescent moon has just risen, with Saturn a finger's-length away, like an open-mouthed fish leaping after a fly. The moon's dark side is clearly visible, lit by reflected light from the earth.

I have been avoiding writing, because there are things I don't want to write about but which loom too large to be ignored. I am unhappy: dissatisfied with myself and my life, appalled at the circumstances in which I live, and afraid of the future (both my immediate own and that of the world). The words "failure" and "loser" have been used, in English and in German, and I cannot really deny that they fit. I have squandered my time and my talents as though both were infinite, and have turned away from love when it was offered as though it were my due and would necessarily recur, and have done so all my life.