Now I truly understand  why my aunt does not like to sleep.  With each new dawn brings on endless possibilities of achievements.  But once that ability of being able to accomplish something gets snubbed out like a flame thru an illness or some wicked twist of fate, the chances of reversion are not next to zero, but heart wrenchingly low.
I too do not like to sleep.  I hate the day,  the pointless hustle and bustle or absurdity and masks as faces.  But alas i am in this system. So i walk between the day and night.

This morning as i face the sea,  it is just a another day for me,  but a struggle for another. The waves come and go,  pure energy which fades with each ebbing flow.  The purpose?
None.
Like the absurdity of my daily life.