October 2, 2000: The second hand at 2am

I’ve never enjoyed waking up. It’s my weakness to dream. A mind full of change—the heart is broke and poor. Leather shoes cover my feet protecting what’s discovered on this journey to catch what lives in the open sea. Being shy holds me back, too afraid to let go. Imagine being alone, homeless, not a fire nearby to keep me warm. I say its failure! How dare the shy man’s cry take the blame! Especially since the fear of his shadow keeps me out to sea! Almost never seen, I hide from other passing ship captains—telling no tale of the one that got away. A waste of time, a lonely man needs not to lie—for I’m being weighed by the full harvest moon, which wakes me in the middle of the night.