'when you have insomnia, you're never really asleep and you're never really awake.'
rough week for sleeping. it's five thirty in the morning now and there's no end to consciousness in sight. i almost wish i could just start bawling my eyes out or something, because it's seriously a rough road. on monday night i didn't get to sleep til 7 AM. i could easily see the same happening today. or worse. who knows? no sleep at all? why not try it?
seems to me like the only solution is to get kind of drunk every single night. this is definitely alcoholic behaviour. but i mean, i've got to sleep. likely better to have two beers before bed than to lie awake in it for hours on end. is drinking better than taking pills? could be. the thought of working today is painful. still, it can be done and i've done it before. why's my mind so troubled these days though? things aren't so bad. must be some deep-seated issues (as usual.) last night i was able to get to sleep through a combination of running intensely followed by beer. tonight, i ran just as intense but i didn't drink. clearly, problems. and i'm not even really thinking about anything at all. just images and fragments and parts of songs zooming through my brain like lasers.
and i want to use this time conscious to write. but i can't i can't write. and it's frightening a bit but i'm trying not to acknowledge it to myself - but it may be i can't write as good as i need to be able to write. it may be maybe. besides who reads anymore anyway? nothin for no one. doesn't matter. just have to find something else to instill in the world. but what but what but what.
hard to deny you aren't doin so well. still, you're doin better'n that black crackhead dude begging for change in the subway station tonight. dude was missing most of his teeth. and when he went down the line of people waiting for the westbound train everything in his voice was hollow. even when he said 'please' three times in a row while looking right at you there wasn't even a sense of desperation behind it. more like a repeated loop in a faulty compuer program. not tryin to diminish this man's pain, because he has it, but it's almost as if it's gone behind sensation for him. he's null.
i'm afraid of trying to close my eyes.
seems to me like the only solution is to get kind of drunk every single night. this is definitely alcoholic behaviour. but i mean, i've got to sleep. likely better to have two beers before bed than to lie awake in it for hours on end. is drinking better than taking pills? could be. the thought of working today is painful. still, it can be done and i've done it before. why's my mind so troubled these days though? things aren't so bad. must be some deep-seated issues (as usual.) last night i was able to get to sleep through a combination of running intensely followed by beer. tonight, i ran just as intense but i didn't drink. clearly, problems. and i'm not even really thinking about anything at all. just images and fragments and parts of songs zooming through my brain like lasers.
and i want to use this time conscious to write. but i can't i can't write. and it's frightening a bit but i'm trying not to acknowledge it to myself - but it may be i can't write as good as i need to be able to write. it may be maybe. besides who reads anymore anyway? nothin for no one. doesn't matter. just have to find something else to instill in the world. but what but what but what.
hard to deny you aren't doin so well. still, you're doin better'n that black crackhead dude begging for change in the subway station tonight. dude was missing most of his teeth. and when he went down the line of people waiting for the westbound train everything in his voice was hollow. even when he said 'please' three times in a row while looking right at you there wasn't even a sense of desperation behind it. more like a repeated loop in a faulty compuer program. not tryin to diminish this man's pain, because he has it, but it's almost as if it's gone behind sensation for him. he's null.
i'm afraid of trying to close my eyes.