Long nights with no sleep. It's raining in Manhattan and there's a felling of melancholy. I wish it was only warm. I don't like the rain. I don't like it when I'm getting wet. From the inside it is a nice experience, but I'm afraid of getting wet. To much water when i was in the mountains I guess. One night Pachecoff's and I got stuck in the top of a hill, there was an electrical storm fallowed by a heavy rain and we had to hide under a little roof that protected a lady Mary statue. A religious oasis for the pilgrims. Just a 1 by 1 little roof. And we hid there and see the lightning struck meters from us. I was sure we were going to die. We smoked cigarettes and joked about the rain. And tried to keep warm. It was a beautiful night. At some moment we decided to run home, still a couple miles away but the rain had slowed and we needed some coffee. We where younger then, and fear was in some other place. Not that I would do something different today, but In the city the logic changes. Here there's more probability to get a short cut. So I smoke a cigarette and enjoy the night. Dreams will arrive at some point. I hope.