Insomnia Journal Entry (3:14am, sometime Sept 09)

(So this is because right now I am ridiculously sleep deprived and overwhelmed. It's not a poem per se, but what evs it'll work. If you've ever experienced any sort of prolonged insomnia, holler back I wanna hear about it. And I know this is super emo and nostalgic, but who isn't nostalgic for the 55th street dorms every once in awhile, for rent-less accommodations and 8:30am classes and long/curlyhaired Alex with only 1 or 2 tattoos...)

My insomnia was once a symptom of pure excitement. We were so young, and reckless and wild. We existed in a time before responsibility, before heartbreak. I felt a buzz, a need to stay up so as not to miss a single moment. I wanted to go on adventures. So we did. Sometimes we'd roam the streets finding friends to laugh with, drink with, watch movies with, flirt with and kiss in dark corners until the end of the night when we'd ride the N train home, stumbling into the elevator exhilarated. Of we'd sit in the kitchen, shoes off, and talk. We'd talk about school and acquaintances and fluff and subways and tattoos and sex and art and melodies and women and masks and memories and thrills and fingernails and hipbones and hallways and parents and home. We'd talk at a frantic, exhausting pace, because we loved eachother and we wanted to hear nothing less than everything.

Now this insomnia is full of words. I read; I write; I repeat. I am trying to figure out something most complex. That is, how I've changed, why it is I still can't sleep but am more desperate. It's borne of longing, yearning, loneliness. I think thought with no conclusion, write to try and say what I only sort of suspect and read just to hear beautiful sentences. My mind wants to rest but my body wants something like comfort, close to warmth or maybe pressure. And I can't sleep because I don't fully understand why I want this and why it is so hard to get my hands on.

I can't even finish this. Even resorting to drinking, alone or with friends, doesn't guarantee that I'll be able to close my eyes once my head hits the pillow. Instead of making me forget, it all takes on a surreal vibe, like dreaming while waking. I miss my sleep dreams, the colors and the symbols and waking up believing, for just a moment, that things like flying or running towards the beach or swimming with turtles, are possibilities.