Jackson Browne is crooning “Stay” over the airwaves and the control room is disturbingly quiet. Gone are the usual heartbeeps whose frequency and pitch detailed the proton beam’s health to my still inexperienced ears. The beam switch box is mostly red as safety interlocks are engaged to prevent the various accelerators and machines from getting beam. The alarm screen is filled with the signs of access.

In this silence, I find myself dreaming with eyes wide. Perhaps I shall learn to ride a motorcycle this summer. Or maybe rock climbing. Or maybe getting into capoeira. And there is always the possibility of getting a new guitar. Dulcinea is too sweet. I need something that has an edge.

I need a change. I could shave my hair off, but it took so long to grow this. I could get LASIK … and I suppose that is a possibility. I’ll file that idea for later.

It’s only a bit before midnight and I can feel the “sleep madness” starting to hit me … hard. I have typed and retyped almost every word in this post several times. My personal favorite times are when I suddenly realize that I am opening my eyes and as my consciousness grows, I recognize that I have typed random words which devolve into gibberish.


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