Late late night is my most and least favorite time of the night. It is the time when most people, the sane ones are asleep and the silence speaks a language all its own. At that time its like you are the only person in the universe, a time when you hang between reality and imagination, a time between worlds when logic takes a backseat and dreams long quit and buried resurge with renewed vigor. At times I think we exist in alternate realities, infinite versions of all possibilities of combinations of variables dictating life from the worst to the best and everything in between. There is one combo where everything works out with one of the many people who left, where life isn’t just mundane existence, where the unanswered why’s in all spheres don’t reverberate ad nauseum but where magic prevails and everyday is an adventure. And that world is never more real then in these late hours when reason and logic take are relegated to the corner and dreams takeover. When does the alternative become real for real?