Down With The Sickness
I've always been a wakeful person. Not in a permanent, insomniac way, merely phases of stress and emotional crisis. I'd get used to it, and soon enough I'd be back to routine- my minimum in school days is about 3 hours of sleep, on weekends maybe 8, 10 or 17, depending on how much I drank the night before. But this, right now? It's driving me out of my fucking mind.
I've tried counting sheep. I'm restlessly throwing myself from side to side. There's not one sleeping position I haven't been into. It's 3 AM, I'm dead tired, but I can't drift away. I get up to get some chocolate. I read boring Hemingway. I listen to soothing Mozart and Bach. I listen to Emo music (it didn't work. But then, Emo is generally useless). I dream up my entire future, #1. I dream up my entire future, #2, this time in a realistic manner, but it only depresses me. I text message people in Australia to keep me up. I listen to a story on tape. It's 6 AM by now and I'm listening to birds. I do advanced calculus in my head*. I wrote this blog entry in my mind. I listen to my dad using the bathroom, going downstairs and preparing the daily caffeine injection. I create & solve various Sudoku puzzles. I masturbate. Very often. I get sore and sour. I recite old Buffy quotes. I try to imagine a hook up between me and Keira Knightley. I fan fiction the upcoming events at Alias. I pray - if that doesn't prove my fucked up state of mind, then I don't know what will. It's 8 AM, the garbage truck is passing beneath my window. I think about what I could sell and possible money plans and savings (I came up with no great business ideas and I'm still skint- in fact, I have even less money. Must've spent my last bucks on the hypothetical date with Keira. She's a greedy bitch, you know). I try to compose a song and add some funky lyrics to it. I hear my brother leaving the house, so I go downstairs, turn on the PC and resume my downloads. I get back to bed. I play the association game, which is pretty boring when you do it by yourself.
Finally, at 11 AM, I fall asleep.
At 1 PM, in deep sleep and finally being able to relax, my brother storms into my room - and I mean literally storms into my room, the door had to be fixed later - because The Diva called up and convinced me brother to wake me up. He was sick of calling upstairs so he just ran inside which caused me, by the age of almost-18, to have a stroke.
This has been going on for 10 days in a row and I just can't help myself anymore. I'm on holidays, for God's sake, I should be sleeping 14 hours MINIMUM a day. Last night I felt so tired and strung out that I took some Codein, which knocked me out for a couple of hours but made me feel sick and worn in the morning. We used to take it after acid trips to lower down and ever since I'm a little sensitive to it.
In effect, I can't help jumping at anyone who provokes me in the least. Or even if they don't. I. Just. Can't. Take. It. Anymore.
*2+2=4, 4-2=2, 3+8=11, 22-10=12...
I've tried counting sheep. I'm restlessly throwing myself from side to side. There's not one sleeping position I haven't been into. It's 3 AM, I'm dead tired, but I can't drift away. I get up to get some chocolate. I read boring Hemingway. I listen to soothing Mozart and Bach. I listen to Emo music (it didn't work. But then, Emo is generally useless). I dream up my entire future, #1. I dream up my entire future, #2, this time in a realistic manner, but it only depresses me. I text message people in Australia to keep me up. I listen to a story on tape. It's 6 AM by now and I'm listening to birds. I do advanced calculus in my head*. I wrote this blog entry in my mind. I listen to my dad using the bathroom, going downstairs and preparing the daily caffeine injection. I create & solve various Sudoku puzzles. I masturbate. Very often. I get sore and sour. I recite old Buffy quotes. I try to imagine a hook up between me and Keira Knightley. I fan fiction the upcoming events at Alias. I pray - if that doesn't prove my fucked up state of mind, then I don't know what will. It's 8 AM, the garbage truck is passing beneath my window. I think about what I could sell and possible money plans and savings (I came up with no great business ideas and I'm still skint- in fact, I have even less money. Must've spent my last bucks on the hypothetical date with Keira. She's a greedy bitch, you know). I try to compose a song and add some funky lyrics to it. I hear my brother leaving the house, so I go downstairs, turn on the PC and resume my downloads. I get back to bed. I play the association game, which is pretty boring when you do it by yourself.
Finally, at 11 AM, I fall asleep.
At 1 PM, in deep sleep and finally being able to relax, my brother storms into my room - and I mean literally storms into my room, the door had to be fixed later - because The Diva called up and convinced me brother to wake me up. He was sick of calling upstairs so he just ran inside which caused me, by the age of almost-18, to have a stroke.
This has been going on for 10 days in a row and I just can't help myself anymore. I'm on holidays, for God's sake, I should be sleeping 14 hours MINIMUM a day. Last night I felt so tired and strung out that I took some Codein, which knocked me out for a couple of hours but made me feel sick and worn in the morning. We used to take it after acid trips to lower down and ever since I'm a little sensitive to it.
In effect, I can't help jumping at anyone who provokes me in the least. Or even if they don't. I. Just. Can't. Take. It. Anymore.
*2+2=4, 4-2=2, 3+8=11, 22-10=12...
skysurfer - Aug 3, 00:57
Or, in the alternative, go do crazy hard work - yard work or something - for many hours - until you're bone-dead tired. You will sleep or you will die!