It’s that time between when the drunks have returned home and before the diligent rise. The full moon creeps out as the clouds swiftly blow by, parting cracks in the dark ceiling overhead. My footsteps are quiet and muffled underneath by the cooling winds. I crest the hill to see a silent Blacksburg in the valley.

My mind was a whirl of thoughts. It was useless to lay in bed attempting to sleep.

But now I’m back, sitting here in front of this computer trying to sort through the endless pieces of the most complicated puzzle I have ever built. I am doing a painfully poor job. I have been here before, trying to sort through life in the few quiet hours that allow for reminiscing. But it is impossible. I am exhausted.

I like to believe I have some sort of control in my life. But right now the one thing that every person would like to say he or she can control is out of my hands. My emotions lead me to a dead end. I need to stop, to step back, to get away from the complexity, this race, to answer some questions. I need solitude and quiet.

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