the wind howls torrents of frozen water at the window, at the trees and buildings and the city, and i sit here. nothing changes the fact that right now i sit here while i could be wrapped in my blanket, the safe warm haven of comfort where i could have dreams of feelings for anyone i like, where words on our lips are condensed into a language of tongue against tongue and we can do anything and go anywhere. where there's no consequence and no moral obligations and no logic and i'm not, at least for a few hours (which can be a few days in dream-time), so barren and deprived and thirsty and dry. nothing changes that fact until it's time for me to force myself to sleep, when it's not right now anymore. but until then, i can only wait. and that brutal gust keeps screaming and blows my sleep and dreams away.
(at around 03:30 am, as suggested by the title.)
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