All work and no roleplaying games...

It’s the day of my first final and I’m up at 4:30. There are demons in my head with jackhammers. Why if I am Prometheus am I still chained to a rock, if the fire that I give has all gone out? Maybe my people just use lighters these days, using my gifts just long enough to light a cigarette but not to burn their fingers, and me: still trying to hold up the world. I would kill for a normal sleep schedule; name your enemy.