Ah, a blank slate, or in this case, page. There is nothing finer than a new beginning; nothing like having the choice of what to place upon that white canvas of a computer screen. It is both exhilarating and frustrating all at the same time. For surely, though it is mine to fill with the truths of the Universe, it is oft more likely that it will be filled with naught but rabbit droppings. Alas, that the truth, or, in this case, the Truth, is not mine to give. Alas, the only thing I can truly claim as my own is my exhaustion.

So, you say, "If thou art so tired, why dost thee not sleep?" And I, in my glib manner would reply, "Would that I could, but sleep is not mine to take and if it is not mine to take, then surely I must not do it either, for that action would imply ownership or at least stewardship and that is truly too great a responsibility for one such as me." And then, in thy wisdom so great, you would say, "ZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."