I like the night. There's such a dearth (not complete) of things happening; the pressures of daylight are on hold, while the world sleeps. It is a respite of a few hours, at least, that the Responsible World won't come and harangue me; business hours are over. Old people need to sleep off their geriatric exhaustion. I hear the occasional car on the freeway beyond my balcony and the occasional snore of my cat. That someone would suddenly appear to disrupt this, intentionally, violently, it does not seem likely right here. Other places, maybe. But anger in this calm quiet is more noticeable, stands out more, seems like an incongruity, so there is incentive not to have it -- unlike the daylight, where everything is lost under the rush rush noise deadline. It is raining a little outside. I wish I felt a little more safe all the time.