All I really wanted to do tonight was write.

I find it a bit awkward to do so. It's a bit too much wear my heart on your sleeve with far less answers. At least the bands who sing such lyrics receive cheers.

Even in a house like this, the night ended quickly tonight. I might be the only one left awake, and I'll turn in soon enough.

But I can be here -- myself, my work-in-progress room, my work-in-progress life -- and not be ashamed of the company.