Thoughts of an Insomniac

I don't sleep much anymore. This seems to happen in 2-week increments. Other things happen in 2-week increments, but that's not important and I'm not going to go there. Actually, it is important. But I'm still not going to go there.

I stay up, trying to sleep, trying to think of sleepy thoughts. Instead, I just write. Things I should've said, things I wish I could say, places I wish I could go. So many lists. I write out my conversations as if I were to have them.

As I type this, I am looking into the mirror to my right, watching myself type this out. Right to left, backward, but still readable. It reminds me of the fact that the human brain does not see and read each letter in a word. Rather, it pays attention to the first and last letters. Everything in between doesn't matter.

I wish everything in between now and 3 months ago didn't matter. But they do. And I can't keep wishing this. Rather, I'll take it in and use it as a learning experience for future reference. I'll use my mistakes, as they hang over my head, as a reminder of who I used to be and who I no longer want to be.

So many thoughts at night. I hate being an insomniac. Apparently, I come by it honestly. Thanks, Dad. I'm sorry if I ever kept you up so late when I was a baby. Maybe this is where it stems from. Mom & Dad tell me stories of how I would climb/fall out of my crib in the middle of the night and turn on the TV. Since the news was always the last thing they had been watching, they always heard "Good evening and welcome to the Nightly News".

I wonder what that's like, watching news stations at 2.30 in the morning. I don't have a TV, but I imagine that I would find myself watching something like PBS or BBC. None of this infomercial bullshit. Why does this exist, even? Answer: to entertain the insomniac, mindless zombies. I hope I never become one of those.