can't sleep. Ok, that's not entirely accurate. I CAN sleep,
I haven't forgotten how to go into an unconscious form, but
I am not able to sleep when I WANT to sleep. I'd really like
to lie down next to Mrs. Bastard at a time socially accepted
to be 'sleepy-time', but I can't. It's as if mind and body
were hibernating all day long while I was awake (this explains
so much, you can't even begin to understand), then when I
want to sleep, my mind and body come alive like fucking Frankenstein's
monster with a piss hard boner. It's abnormal.
midnight, 11 central time, I'm all over the house, thinking
about jogging, talking to myself, petting the cat, petting
myself, writing rubbish then not saving it, eating junk food,
and making foul odors. I read other people's journals, I read
message boards, and sometimes I'll play a game or six. Most
people read in bed to get to sleep but I get uncomfortable
reading in bed, thus defeating the purpose of reading in bed
to get to sleep, so I figure I'll read in my chair at my computer
to try to get to sleep.
a fucking strange sentence that was.
ends up happening is I find something terribly funny or terribly
horrible and I laugh all night long, regardless if it was
funny or horrible. Before you know it, the sun is coming up,
I have bags under my eyes, the cats are yelling at me to go
to bed (or feed them, I don't speak cat so I can only guess
at what they want) and I smell like a fat, sweaty, monkey
doing the backstroke in the river next to a sewage treatment
plant. But monkeys can't swim, so that analogy is really,
adds to my frustration is that I get all my creative energy
at 3am. Prior to 3am, I don't want to do anything. Don't make
me think, don't make me drive somewhere, don't try to make
me understand something. I. Can't. Function. It's killing
me, I want to sleep, but I also want to write or draw or build
something. I think it'd be funny as hell to go out to my garage
right about now and make some shelves with little patterns
of monkeys playing hopscotch and throwing poo, but the neighbors
would have me arrested. I'm not sure what law I'd be breaking,
but my neighbors are all a billion years old and they vote.
don't understand that logic. Just because old fuckers vote,
you are bending to their every whim? Uhm
about the rest of the voting population? What if all the old
fuckers wanted a bill passed that required all senators to
have their scrotums glued to the foreheads? Here's a thought.
Those old fuckers and their voting
they aren't going
to be around for much longer, could it be that the things
they want done are only going to benefit them for a couple
of weeks? What about the younger voters, the ones that will
be around for the next election? Shouldn't their opinion matter
1000 times more than Granny's? Should we be looking toward
the next decade or toward the next week?
back to monkeys and my sleeping habits. Which have nothing
to do with each other. It's 3am now, which is why I am writing
all thing nonsense. And it is nonsense. I make no claim to
being a writer; I don't even claim to be able to speak English.
I just keep pushing buttons. I wish my keyboard had flashing
lights and made BOOP noises once in a while. Oh wait
still have some rum left. When all else fails, drink until
you pass out. Stay here, I'll be right back. Bacardi Raspberry
Twist and Orange soda. Well, it's not a vodka tonic and a
blow job, but it should do the trick. Wow, this tastes like
cough syrup, complete with horrible after taste, but without
the fun of hacking up green lung parts.
suppose drinking to go to sleep is probably a bad sign, but
that all depends on whose bullshit opinion you want to listen