Here I sit at this late hour. With every light on, I've got the power. This is where I do my living. I am one with my sofa. Into this cushion, I do meld. Alone in the light of 40 watt bulbs, I wait for the heaviness of eyelids to seize me. Alone, it should be noted, is not living even if the word is denoted by the description of the space. Dead Zone might be a better fit. What isn't me, isn't sentient. What living thing would allow his body to be ravaged by a non-heroic undertaking? That living thing is me. Here I sit at this late hour. With every light on, I now retire.