Quiet

Quiet night. It is 12:36am. I don't know why I think it so important to tell you what time it is. It seems important for you to know that it is dark, that it is past midnight, and that I can hear myself typing on the soft keyboard of my MacBook.

But it is not completely quiet. My coffee-charged colleague just got back after I started this post, and I can hear her talking and laughing. Others are talking softly in the background. It doesn't bother me. The sound of typing is comforting.

I miss rambotan. He hasn't written in a month and a half. I actually know him in real life—that's why I don't have him on my blogroll. I hope he is okay, but I've kinda lost touch with him so I don't know how to ask.

I'm random at night. I've started two different paragraphs but I've deleted them both. Things get personal at night, if you get my meaning. Must strive to be impersonal, but that is hard to do.

I will type until I fall asleep...