We don't sleep. We dream, we don't sleep. We love, we don't sleep. Some of us wait, some of us rest.
Not me.
Late at night on the metro getting off one train and onto another going the opposite way and staggering through the doors between cars and sometimes staring intently out the windows at the concrete walls rushing by. In the All-Nite laundro-mat watching clothes that don't belong to me tumble in the dryer. At the arcade in front of a pinball machine being just a little envious of that little metal ball. At a nightclub on the dance floor, always on the dance floor never waiting at the bar, spinning round and round and round and round and nobody notices one more lunatic as long as they don't fall down. On the sidewalk, walking past the people, walking by the newsstands, walking through the traffic lights, walking to another nightclub before its doors are closed.
There's a taxi at the corner when you're too drunk to drive. There's a bus going to the next town in the middle of the night. There's a trucker with a load of boxes of something that won't mind if you need a ride.
Look, there I go.