The day ends.
The lights go down.
And every unfinished thing from the last twelve hours arrives at once.
Not as tasks.
As questions.
Did I say the right thing?
Did I miss something important?
What if tomorrow looks like today?
—
Night does not create the thoughts.
It simply removes the noise that kept them quiet.
—
I used to fight them.
Now I write a few of them down.
Not to solve them.
Just so they have a place to wait until morning.
—
Most of them look smaller in the light.
The ones that do not can be faced when the body is rested and the mind is not trying to solve everything at once.
—
Night is not the enemy.
It is only the hour when nothing else is competing for attention.
And sometimes that is exactly when the real questions become visible.
