Sleep and insomnia: Un-informative post on both
Sleepy, I am. Yawning like mad. Bleary-eyed with the effort of keeping my flaps open. My head has an undercurrent, pulsating wariness.
I pixelate my sexy editing skills, and try to discourage my thoughts from jangling against each other. Get along! I am not sure if this will make the rounds. There is shame there, and anger. Distrust. Or will I be forced to wade through clear muck? Stories I dream when awake tell me what I want. Stories I dream when I sleep tell me what I need. I usually have desultory results. WTF, right?
I like this. Flow, I mean. Fiction and truth tainting each other, divided along a make-believe wall. If I wait a bit longer, they will mingle with each other and tell me more fantastical tales, narratives from the uber-reality.
For the first time ever, I am unhappy with Daylights Savings Time. Enforced math.