I cannot take one more sleepless night. I cannot toss and turn again. I would give just about anything right now to guarantee a night free from my mind racing, my heart racing, my teeth clenched. It's active indifference, which is the worst kind for certain.
I'm counting sheep. Now I'm herding them around Scottish moors filled with fog. Now a dog is barking. I am still awake. I am pacing around my room. I don't play guitar because I'm afraid my child-like ghost voice will wake Megan and she will again believe that our house is haunted. I don't write in my journal because that would mean that my thoughts had won themselves a place on Primetime, a place where we could all return when sleep finally comes. A place where my thoughts and confessions seek refugee status and demand food and water and shelter and I won't be able to refuse them.
I've written down words lately in hopes of using them in some profound fashion at a later date: meniscus, sinister, holy, prolific. These words glare back at me, gutless. I'm tired but I can't close my eyes. I cannot bear what comes next.
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3 comments:
Pharmaceuticals, my friend. That is the answer.
no drugs diggery. Just get up and do work. It'll put you right to sleep.
Tony- You have no idea how freaking hot it is here.
And by drugs, you surely know that I mean Tylenol Brand Sleep Aid?
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