Man, itís too late for me to up rambling. I have to be up in a few of hours. Not only up, but up and at Ďem. The stupid thing about waking up early is how it robs you of so much of the night. Midnight isnít late until you see that your alarm is set for four in the morning. And midnight isnít bed time, no matter what the alarm clock says.
I refuse to let the daylight world intrude upon my night life. I donít mean nightlife like they advertise in Bacardi ads, or like you see in the movies. Iím no club kid.
But Iím alive at night, you know? The day is just another obstacle I have to get through, another annoyance, another too-bright, too-busy, too-hot, line of bullshit that keeps me from being who I am.
The shadows are only dark enough at night.
During the day, there arenít enough storage spaces for the inhibitions that keep me from being true to myself. Only at night does my smile shine properly, and does my laugh reverberate in the right tone.
Iím only me in The Big Shadow.
As evil as my thoughts may be as I look over a deserted world, they are untainted by the socially acceptable. They are untamed and infected, raw and brutal and my own. I donít know if they make me a better person or a horrible one, and I donít care. Because no one mispronounces when they howl at the moon.
Donít let the real world ruin you, Strangelanders.