I am sitting upright in my bed as I write this on my laptop, using only the light of my screen to able me to view the keys I am writing with. It is late. I can't sleep. Again I just can't sleep. Normally I am the kind of boring person who is long in the land of nod before the next day chimes at midnight, but today, tonight, again... I just cannot sleep. It's been a couple of weeks like this now.
Somewhere in my mind I am troubled by something - quite possibly the fear that the book I write is total rubbish, and that my life will descend into one where a big fat failure sign is cattle prodded and etched with burning force onto my bottom cheeks, this in someway explains the slightly more darker and serious tone to these blogs recently. They are meant to be the literary equivalent of the cartoon shorts show before the feature film, as they did back in the days when cartoons such as Spongebob Squarepants and Cow And Chicken were not so readily available, but seem to be slowly turning into some form of depressing, low rent episode of a poorly articulated soap opera. Shit, why I am taking the circus so God damn seriously? I just want to buy a ticket, appreciate the jugglers and the trapeze guys, smile and feel converse sorrow for the clowns, and wonder how the lion tamer chooses to be one in the first place.
I am sure none of this makes that much sense to anybody who reads it, but I am really simply attempting the idea that if you try to consciously stay awake, it actually makes you sleepy and tired... try it sometime, it is starting to work.
They say it is possible to survive on three hours of sleep a nigh. I have never tried this, and if anyone reading this has done so, please let me know how it went - if you do not fall asleep before you get the chance to do so.
I am going to attempt to sleep now, I have some dreams to catch up on.