It is 4:25 in the morning. I have been awake for almost three hours now. At first, I tried to fall back asleep, but none of my usual tricks worked. I had a couple of very good nights in a row. Now I am home again and can’t sleep. I tried writing, but my words are thin and without spark. I read a lot and ordered new books. And I fell down a rabbit hole on Instagram. But I am still not asleep. Flashes of memories appear before my eyes; they make me smile. Good memories. And yet, I cannot sleep. Outside it is raining. Again. As always, the window is open, and I let the cold air caress my skin. I am feeling myself.