...and day not long enough.

Skylark sings all
day, and day
not long enough.
- Bashō

I want to write something.

But nothing is coming. I'm tired in that senseless, not likely to lead to sleep sort of way. I've been worn down and sick, but neither in any useful way.

But I'm trying to focus on the bits that are good: the sound, beyond static and telephony, of dear voices; the friendly smile of my dog, hot in his chair, looking for a touch on the head; the moment when the humidity will break and stop feeling like Louisiana minus the Cajun food and cold drinks.

I'm tired, but I do not want to sleep.