Ye gods and little swirling Nemo fishies ...
Well, THIS has been an interesting experiment.
"Work is so dull, so lifeless, so uninspired," I mused to myself, "that why should I waste valuable WAKING time there when I can just Not Sleep and THEN go to work?"
My eyes keep drifting shut as if tugged by impatient, horn-handed gnomes, and behind my eyes is a constantly collapsing origami of blue stars.
I phase in and out, missing whole minutes of conversations that seem increasingly parched of meaning, hollow whispers in a vast, spiral drum. I hear myself speak and find myself flickering back to consciousness like a sullen ember brushed by breeze, and I hope no one's listening to my semi-coherent opium-sot ramblings. The customers are terrified.
I suck down soda after espresso after soda after mocha, soaking my tormented, twisted brain in chemicals in an effort to spark it back to life, like a mad Italian zazzing a dead frog to make it dance the can-can.
Not something that's recommended by those who wish to keep their jobs, their sanity, or their intact skulls, no doubt. The ride home on the train should be interesting. I don't remember a damn bit of it this morning except that I somehow found myself reading "The Watchtower" while sleeping with my eyes open.
... but I STILL think last night was worth it.
"Work is so dull, so lifeless, so uninspired," I mused to myself, "that why should I waste valuable WAKING time there when I can just Not Sleep and THEN go to work?"
My eyes keep drifting shut as if tugged by impatient, horn-handed gnomes, and behind my eyes is a constantly collapsing origami of blue stars.
I phase in and out, missing whole minutes of conversations that seem increasingly parched of meaning, hollow whispers in a vast, spiral drum. I hear myself speak and find myself flickering back to consciousness like a sullen ember brushed by breeze, and I hope no one's listening to my semi-coherent opium-sot ramblings. The customers are terrified.
I suck down soda after espresso after soda after mocha, soaking my tormented, twisted brain in chemicals in an effort to spark it back to life, like a mad Italian zazzing a dead frog to make it dance the can-can.
Not something that's recommended by those who wish to keep their jobs, their sanity, or their intact skulls, no doubt. The ride home on the train should be interesting. I don't remember a damn bit of it this morning except that I somehow found myself reading "The Watchtower" while sleeping with my eyes open.
... but I STILL think last night was worth it.