You really mellow out. You create playlists for entire years of your life (post to come later). You start writing 4 different things at one time. Everything gets supernaturally quiet and you can think long luxurious, indulgently contemplative thoughts. No one interrupts you. There’s not much on T.V. You carefully dissect the difference between insomnia and just not sleeping. It’s fun to watch people sleeping. Eating cereal tastes better. Song lyrics become especially poignant. It’s lonely. You have amazing ideas! It’s easier to write. Mess doesn’t bother you. Your bare feet get cold faster. The muscles in your legs begin to ache. Everything seems like a good idea (like this post). Perhaps you just care less. Grammar is more of a hindrance. It is the perfect time to remember something in detail. It is not a good time to make resolutions. You find yourself tucking people in. Your dog looks at you like you’re keeping her up. You worry that not sleeping now will cause problems tomorrow, which only makes avoiding sleep that much more inevitable. You check on your children. Noises like, turning on a lamp or the ticking of a clock are a lot louder. You remember every dawn you’ve ever seen. Sleep becomes an object of lust and like lust, it only gets more seductive with each moment you deny yourself.
Goodnight.
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