Laying on the couch and staring, sometimes at the wall, mostly the wall. Don’t want to rise and shine. Prefer to stay away from everyone. Feeling sick, but not at all tired. Can’t sleep and can’t dream. Fortunately for me, the wall is sick as well. I notice that we, together, have an understanding. So I lay on my side, and it stands by. Our communion is simple really. We don’t have much to say. Can’t say I’d want it any other way. But the wall is also sick, at least that’s the way it seems. S...