120/365 12/19/2025

Insomnia never announces its arrival. It comes quiet in the night. Not to keep you from sleep from to keep you from getting back to sleep. It’s the small thing that nudges you awake at three a.m. and swirls about your mind like some half-remembered spirit. It whispers. Just enough to keep thinking. Just enough to charge your body into quiet refusal. And then you have two choices: lie mad about it, or go ahead and accept it and vow to get something done. And that’s how I ended up on Houston Street the night Brady Gray came to town.