Insomnia

Insomnia has (again) reared it's ugly head...mostly in relation to my weighty insecurities post, but also just sheer confusion. The world is screwing itself up into a tight, fitful little ball. Storms are yawning and stretching outside my window; mimetic, pathetic fallacies that echo my sleeplessness. A couple of my friends have spoken of dark things, demonic creatures, attached to their sleeping and waking time. My demons don't seem to materialize as clearly, but rather, create an opacity between me and the world that is violently suffocating and incredibly loud. It robs me of sleep.

I found an old writing project I did in 3rd grade. The teacher (apparently) had given us the following assignment: look at the outline of a running horse and write about what the image reminded us of (yes, I'm ending in a preposition, but, it's like 1: 30 a.m., so cut me some slack!). Most kids wrote: "I think of freedom!" "I think of beauty!" "I think of love!" Here's what I wrote: "I look at this and think of sorrow." Telling, my friends, mightily telling.

I'd like to write about pleasant or funny things, but the mood (and the facade) eludes me at the moment.