Sleep is out to get me. Not in the nice, kind comforting way of, oh im so tired ill go to sleep now... No. I mean in the, hunting me through the forest of my deluded day dreams, stalking me from the shadows of the classroom, breathing down my neck in anticipation of my immminent catatonia. Insomnia is fast becoming a terminal strain on my neurons.

I try to sleep. I do. But when im alone in my bedroom, with the lights off.. the fan blowing chill air down on me, the sound of the wind droning into the night, when it comes down to the grindstone, my brain just wont shut the fuck up.

Its not like when i was younger, plagued by momentary lapses of cognition, feeling as though the world moved at double speed. Those were bad times, but this is something else. I can fall into that terrifying familiar tempo at a moments notice at 4 am, but thats not what starts the insomnia. Theres something else here, with me in my mind. Its following the shadow of my thoughts, out of ear shot, like the sleep which haunts my dreamless desires.

And when i collapse on the sofa, bathing in the hot sun throught the window, when my mind finally does shut off, i dream in those bizzarre dreamscapes of texture that haunted me hand in hand with my twisted, tempo crazed demon.

The feeling one gets when one immerses ones dry naked hand in a body of water, until the water runs the full curcumference of your palm and fingers, where the water feels like a ring of chill around your paw. I feel this sensation, but it encompasses me in a way which is, even as i type feebly in the dark, utterly un accountable.

Maybe im just doomed to a life in the dark half of existence. Where the sun rise is a reminder of how broken my body has become. Id insert some crude reference to vampirism if it didnt sound so hollow and hopelessly outdone.

Good night Somerset,
Good night island
Good night world.

My Rising Sun exists on a flag, half a world away, where the timezones seem less familiar, but more accepting...

I hate Insomnia.