I sometimes wonder if night is not really night and day is not really day. Because one connotates sleep and the other wakefulness, productivity, and in general being out and about. To me it's more like peace and darkness; chaos and light. My brain seems content to exist, awake, in both. And it lets me rest whenever it pleases. 

That's fine. Being conscious when the world is sleeping has its own benefits. I'm not alone but everything is peaceful. The peace itself brings pleasure. 

One of the clearest memories I have is when I was in class. I must have been 13 or 14. It was afternoon, and the sky outside was swollen with purplish, almost black clouds and it was nearly as dark as night but with a thin layer of light pushing through. I think it was english class (we called it language arts) and we were supposed to analyse a song. It was Luka by Suzanne Vega and our teacher played it on a CD player with two speakers. 

The breeze smelled like earth and cold rain and lightning, even though there were no flashes of light and no thunder. Cold wind chilled my arms like ether from the black looming clouds outside. The room was shadowed and in this darkness the music danced through the icy classroom; I looked out through the shutters and told myself to memorise this moment and remember it forever - it was as if the world was going to end and something was being summoned from the sky, it was the closest thing to magic I'd ever experienced.