The train comes through the back of the neighbor's property at about seven o' clock am. I think about that, standing out there on the track. Waiting.

I cry sometimes for seemingly no reason, at odd points in the middle of my day.

Do I even care anymore about Morpheus? When he comes back after being gone through one of the most difficult periods of my life? AT least in 2008, he was there, coming and going drunkenly.

Do I care?