how the sleep time torments. how when in the hollow of darkness these images and the sounds of the past come tumbling over and over again and i can't quite connect the sounds of then and now. how is it that i feel a frustrating numbness and also a throbbing anguish but everything now is so cliched because how can i articulate such things that i do not want to say out loud. i do not want to go there tonight; when the saddest moment of truth comes, truly all the sad songs seem mundane and insignificant, unworthy to describe. describing, articulating cheapens. argh i hate words.