Sometimes I feel quietly cool.

There are times when my mind wanders in the night, looking for clues to who I really am.

Other times it's not. Sometimes it lingers on yet, leaving me unable to sleep.

I feel like I die a little bit every time I sleep, as I surrender much of what I know to my subconscious,

which buries it for future reference, as though there are some things I need to forget.

And yet, I learn so much while I sleep at night, as I wonder why my real history is a mystery even unto myself, and I try to recall who I really am.

It feels like a temporary sacrifice, just to keep living.

I dream of a week where I can be myself and not worry about who I really am.

I want a day to be lost in without doubt about where I'm going.

If I ever get lost enough, I'm sure I'll run into the truth just by sheer improbability.

Give me a million dollars and I'd run.

Give me a million dollars and I'd have a dream.

With a dream, an 8th day isn't so faraway.