Maybe it's the insomnia keeping me here… I've never been much of a sleeper…. But what's driving me to this?… I guess it's just sheer curiosity.. . I can't stand the not knowing.. looking down, I suddenly remember I'm human.. that tends to be easy to forget.. you'd think not these days.. but it still is… corridors lead into rooms lead into corridors.. . . walls lined with door.. after door… after door.. isn't it funny that after allllll that.. you can still remember what's behind each one… because you put it there.. you put All of it there.. I put it all there.. behind each and every door.. is every memory I packed away.. even the ones that don't surface, but they're still there.. if I were to open a door, the sunlight from the window would still be blocked by those memories I never bother to revisit.. it still adds to the mood. But today.. I'd prefer not to open any doors.. today my interest is in counting the doors… and this weird, hollow feeling I keep getting lately is starting to get to me.. I start counting doors… trip over my own feet… watching the ground pass under my footsteps, I get jittery.. shake, close my eyes, shake my head â€" turn it to the left.. still walking, I feel a chill come over me and open my eyes.. it's been a second and a half.. and I'm looking down again.. counting doors again… it won't be an accurate count.. I keep getting lost in all these doors.. all the lengths of the hallways.. passing through the rooms… but it's not accuracy I'm after, now is it.. it's the act of it all.. it's being able to look at another door one day and realizing that I counted all those doors.. it's the fact that they're there to count.. it's everything behind it… it's the comfort of knowing they're there.. even if I never.. ever open them again…