I'm so tired but I can't sleep

Standin' on the edge of something much too deep
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard

(Ugh. Hello, wall. Hello, wailer.)

I haven't thought of that song in years, and now I can't get it out of my head. I can't lie down, can't keep my eyes closed. Nothing works.

Met up with the link to "End of All Things" again, off Pam Spaulding's blog, by someone identified only as DarkWraith. It reminds me very much of Harlan Ellison's work--wretched and desperate, and still with something almost magical to it, by Crowley's brutal definition--and that's still to my mind one of the greatest things to be said about any writing.

Long and draining day. I just want it to be over before tomorrow.