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The Daily Life of an Insomniac

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The TV is on. It has been on all night, and I have been watching it all night, and I have no clue what is going on. This show is very confusing.

It’s 2’Oclock in the morning. I have done nothing productive all day, or all yesterday, and I am not tired at all. Goddamn this insomnia. I’m fired up!

Finally at 3 I convince myself to turn off the TV and go to bed. I slide in between cool sheets, close my eyes, and my brain explodes. At the moment, I would rather die than fall asleep. So what should I do? Internet. Probably a good idea.

I play idiotic games, and read about the photoreceptor cells of a Mantis Shrimp. I learn to throw a wicked left uppercut, how to kindle a fire, and the recipe for a scrumptious old-fashioned yellow cake. At four I stumble upon a web page called purple. It was purple. Every click of the mouse bring something new, more exciting than the last. Damn, it’s like Christmas morning!

Eventually, finally, my eyelids become droopy. I close my laptop and set it carefully on the floor. Outside, golden rays of sunlight begin to reach out their wispy fingers and paint the sky with warm hues of pink and orange. I fall asleep wonderfully with my curtains pulled apart and my windows open. Crisp morning air kisses my skin. Sweet, plump birds sing me lullabies, and my wearied mind shuts down as the word around me begins to awaken.



At 11 in the morning I open my eyes. The sun is too bright though, so I close them again. I can hear people outside my window. They’re running, and walking, and, biking, and talking, and singing, and dancing, and laughing, and crying, and joking, and playing, and fighting, and eating, thinking, and living, and dying.
And I am sleeping.
I smile, and close my eyes (though I should really keep them open).




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