inSomnia.

InSomnia.





















I've been an insomniac for as long as I could remember. I always sleep unexpectedly when I don't want to, and I can't sleep intentionally if I want to.









Insomnia, to me, is one of the greatest living tortures of all time. When the clock ticks, it seems like it's not moving at all, just the clock hand. But after a tick of the clock hand, it seems to have jumped back into it's original place, and the clock ticking is just like an illusion. The clock seems to be laughing in my head.









Or maybe it's just me losing my mind, losing sanity, delirious.














When I'm sick of staring at the grey shadows of the moon on my walls, I'll turn on the light. With a light *click*, I'm momentarily blinded. Something that doesn't bore my eyes out actually makes me blind for a moment. But it's okay, since I asked for it anyways.









I'll look around my room, look around for something that will capture my interest. The nearest thing I'll find is the radio. With a light click of the switch, a random song will come on. Most probably it will be some party techno since the radio station I habitually tune into broadcasts party hits at night, and in the morning, it'll broadcast some of my more preferred music.









With my thumb, I'll tune it to my next choice, a radio station that usual broadcasts what my preferred radio station broadcasts in the morning.




The first song will come up. If I'm lucky, it'll be a song that catches my interest and will entertain for 3 minutes or so. If I'm not, I'll just listen half-heartedly and hoping that after this, something that will make me focus some attention will come up.









After boring myself with some songs on the radio and a boring DJ, I'll turn the radio off with a sigh and turn to my iPod.









Scrolling through my selection of preferred songs, I'll listen for awhile. I do not know why, but I get a kick from the radio hearing one of my favourite songs playing. Maybe it's like playing the lottery. The game is to test your patience and see whether an electric appliance can kill you slowly. If you're lucky or you have enough patience to wait some time, the song you want will eventually come up.









And that happiness shall only last a mere 3 damn minutes. Then your spirits shall slowly, and eventually, drop again.









Back to my iPod. I just realised I got stoned.









It always happens. I'm thinking of doing something very clearly, and then my mind just jumps to another intention. I'll think of that intention, slowly collecting the information, and then the realisation shall hit me. I'll come back to reality, half-stoned, half thinking about what I was thinking while thinking about what I was thinking about a few moments ago.














Anyways, after being bored again by a simple minded device, I shall revert to something else.



















I'll look around my bright room which light is provided by my shining lamp. Then I shall look out to the outside world through my window. The moonlight is still able to shine in, even though there is enough artificial light inside. The moonlight is unable to penetrate the part of my window that has metal bars though. Those metal bars are meant to make outsiders unable to break in. But why do I feel like it's also meant to make me feel what's outside?









On the edge of hell and boredom, I'll open the window and stick my hand from the warmness and comfort of my room, and into the eerie-ness of the night. Vaguely, I




hear some faint sounds of crickets. Into the night, my hand momentarily grasp the night, feeling the coldness surround me for awhile.




And after a few moments, it disappears.









I lament my for the disappearance of my hope, and I close my window with a slow swing of my arm.









With almost no hope left for any excitement whatsoever, I surrender to a book. With my white flag up, I move to my book shelf to grab any book I first see. Hopefully, I'll actually be able to find a book that I haven't read before and is entertaining.




And if I'm unlucky to find one of my not so exciting books about psychology like emotional intelligence, I'll read a few pages to understand more about psychology of the mind.









Why do I read books of psychology? Well, I'm reading them because I'm interested in how the mind thinks, what ticks it to the extreme. Maybe one day I'll be able to find a book about insomnia, and be able to sleep soundly when I want to, and stop being so sick in the head.









And after a few paragraphs of new or maybe old information collected from my book, I'll get bored and tired. Standing up, I put back my book onto the shelf.









Feeling tired, I turn off the bright light, and try to walk back the wall I walk almost every night. I'm temporarily blinded again, and the only light I see now is the vivid moonlight. Maybe kicking my bag or the chair on the way back to my bed, I'll finally end up to the edge of the bed. Feeling the softness of my blankets and sheets, I'll rest my head on the pillow. While getting my eyes suited to the darkness, I shall think of random things. About dust bunnies dancing, wondering how halos of angels stay up, and of the swirly colorful-ness of lollipops.









After all the thinking, my eyes will be suited to the darkness without me even noticing.









Tossing and turning. Being huddled between my comfortable blanket and bed sheet, I still cannot find solace. I turn to my left, and I see my teddy bear, my ever so dear teddy. I'll talk to my teddy for awhile, finding some peace in talking to a friend that never answer, talking to a friend that will just listen intently. There are a few advantages and flaws in teddy, but I won't blame him though.









Looking at the ceilings, and the single small crack on my wall, I try to get to sleep. After saying goodnight to the grey shadows on my walls, I'll close my eyes, and hope to get some sleep.









And soon before long, after some time, maybe a very long time. My insomnia will give up. It'll give in to my begs and prayers, and maybe grant me some brief slumber. And if I'm really lucky, it'll also add a nice dream about candy canes, interesting books, and hamsters that won't bite. If I'm unlucky though, and just to be sadistic, my insomnia will give me nightmares, twisted versions of my dreams.














And after all this complicated and simple thinking, my mind will stop and give me a rest. And I shall drift away into the far heavens. And all that you will be able to hear is my subtle breathing.














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This is what I go through almost every damn night of my life. The clock laughing at me, poking fun at my suffering. When you're an occasional insomniac, this is your endless suffering. Is this a punishment for over excessive sleeping in my past life?

I shall say that karma is very sadistic and cruel then.







When you're an insomniac, you seem awake, but you aren't really. You're physically awake, but mentally asleep. You feel bored, you feel apathetic, you feel dead.



I feel unalive now anyways.