It comes around nighttime. Little by little, until it fully arrives. That deep reality, the fuck ups, the constant fuck ups I remember. The loneliness, the solitude that I once felt has come again, but it is in a different form now. The things that I cannot undo. And the actions that might have led me here. Regret? Lesson learned? I don't think so, because I have never moved on. And I can't ignore you, or ask you to leave, because you come every night. In the late afternoon you arrive. I wish I could beat you, defeat you. But I am completely consumed, overpowered and feel paralyzed, paralyzed by fear, by sadness, by awe.