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My Sleepless Nights
I've never had what you would call a consistent sleep pattern.
I was never the one to wake up, bright and early, fully rested, eager to face the day.
i was never the one to retire to a neatly made bed immediately after dinner, alarm clock set.
Lets just say, I never got that damn worm and I always missed the early bird.
I would shy away from the word "insomniac" because, honestly, I could sleep if I wanted to.
I could turn off all the technology at 9:30, cuddle up in my blanket, and get some quality sleep.
I probably wouldn't get sick as often, I might wake up earlier, be more productive, hell I might even write descriptions for those picks I post every week.
I don't know. I kindof thrive there.
When everyone else except the other nocturnal weirdos go to sleep, and the sun is very busy in an other time zone, that's when I'm the most awake, that's when I'm the most alive. I can write anything. I can do anything.
That novel I've been meaning to work on? Knocked out three chapters.
That book I just can't get into? My new favorite series.
This world in the dark is my home, and I own it.
What can't I do when the cold blue light of my laptop or TV illuminate the room? When the blinking cursor on my word processor is my friend, a cheerleader, and not a menacing bully, begging me to check my Facebook.
But... That's also when I feel like I'm not alone. I mean, I feel like that's when the shadows of the day, my darkest demons, and the most illogical insecurities seem to be true, and backed up by infallible logic. My sins, my shortcomings, are at their strongest, and instead of my brain dismissing them to the trash bin, deleting them from my brain, from my soul, they overpower me, make me feel weak and guilty.
Why don't I sleep?
Is it because I enjoy the thrill? The strange motivation to do whatever I want?
Because I have too much to write? I feel unfulfilled by my day and I need to produce a little more?
What if its the bad thoughts? The fears and unanswerable questions that slam into the walls of my brain? Shattering any possibility of sweet dreams?
I don't know. But as I write this, I must say, Its not fun waiting for the sandman.