insomnia.

dearest shadow,

its two. and yes. same old same old. i cant sleep. or rather, i dont want to sleep. every once in a while my body triggers sleep but for the most part, i think i'm truly turning into an owl. i think if i am slightly more sleep deprived, i might actually believe that i am an owl and probably try twisting my neck 360.

being sleep deprived is a wonderful thing. and its a cursed thing. a strange cocktail. an interesting dichotomy. and a beautiful paradox. my most creative ideas, my most imaginative of poetry and prose (which i have since stopped writing) and my best line drawings come at this time. and i delight in them. and i say a huge thank you to my brain. for i love it so. as much as it is pompous, it is true when i tell you that i am an enigmatic personality...at this sleep deprived hour. and a certain group of friends have seen how that side of me is. these days, it has just one witness. a voiceless witness.

yet so, i feel cursed by this inability to sleep properly and restfully at night. if you know me well enough, then you'd know how much i value sleep. however little i get. it takes alot for my body to trigger sleep and thats why i go into overdrive when its gone. if you ever had the bad fortune of meeting me just when i wake up or worse, wake me up, i'm truly sorry. i'm grumpy from snow white and the seven dwarfs. sometimes i wonder if i stay thin and get backaches just because i sleep this way. i convince myself that there are other biological reasons to it.


every night i look out the window and stare at the two lousy stars that i shifted my bed for. and the blocks opposite my house and curse at the bike drivers every once in a while. its a shot straight out of 12 storeys. one of local films i enjoyed in film classes. i wonder if this match box existence is truly for me. and whether i am putting in too much into this so called wonderful existence. i have everything. everything that i need. and sometimes i feel like something is missing.

the year has started and i keep hearing one of those you better do this and you better do that in this year and there are so many lists in my head. so many things to do. so many thing s that i want to do. and get this. none of them has me in it. i make so many lists in my head. some of them on elaborate stationery...the kind without flowers though.

so much of what i write is to clear those lists. to clear my thoughts and articulate them. and just chuck them aside. and read them like a few months later when i come come back to blog with a stupid apology or two about how busy i've been. i think that i am starting to rant again. seems like so much of this is blank verse. in the literal sense. no the literary sense. blank. but verse nonetheless. knowing that comforts me somewhat. that my brain is not blank. the verse is coded to sound blank. this is where you have to insert my signature know-it-all

all i really want to be is to be good enough. for myself at least. perfectionism makes that hard. i want to see who wins. me. or perfectionism. usually the latter wins.


and that eats my sleep.