she never sleeps. there's someone downstairs from you that's awake before you're awake and awake as you fall asleep, awake while you dream, awake while you shit, while you shower, while you plan, while you speak, while you live and live and live again, she never sleeps. since she never sleeps, you can't know who she is, and can't know who she isn't, yet you are well aware that right now she hears everything you talk about upstairs, everything you do upstairs, every move you make, down to the minute you make it, knows everyone you've ever invited inside, and why. since she never sleeps, since she knows everything you know, you might say she's a part of everything you know. since she's heard everything you've said and done, you might say she's part of everything you say and do. since she's seen so much, heard so much, about what you do and who you are, she's probably way beyond judgement, way beyond criticism, way beyond opinion, absolutely impartial about which, what and why, yet intimately aware, intimately involved, and since she lives downstairs, she probably wants peace most of all - just like you. since she hears everything you say, even at the darkest hour, it might be interesting to start talking to her. who knows? since she's always here, always has been and always will be, and is here right now ... it might be an extraordinary thing to attempt to listen to her. what might she say?