Sleepless in Brooklyn doesn’t sound as “sexy” as being “Sleepless in Seattle” but we end up doing the same things wherever we are being sleepless. All attempts to go back to sleep have been futile of course. Struggling still with my “thinkaholic” diagnosis is most challenging on sleepless nights such as this one. There are too many things for me to mull over and too many things for me to do when I wake up in the middle of the night. I get on my crackberry and start “bbming” my fellow crackberry owners as we are united in our sleeplessness. I go online and watch youtube videos about everything under the sun and now I’ve come back to my first love – writing. I churn out my best work when I’ve been asleep for two hours and have to wake up in three. The pressure to go back to sleep forces me to put out something really good for the masses and then when it’s finally out I feel so relieved. It’s almost like giving birth, just a shorter, cleaner, inanimate version LOL. Anyway, I really must go back to the task that I was pursuing prior to writing this pointless blog about me and my sleepless nights. I shall work harder than ever before, with a renewed vision of me sleeping peacefully like a baby with no cares in the world J
Your gaze once filled with adoration and love now sears me with scorn.
When you grab me, your fist is a very real lump at my throat.
I don’t know what to say.
You speak, but I cannot make out your words.
I am more concerned with the grimace your mouth has rearranged itself into.
And your lips actually tremble with barely contained anger.
I am not afraid of you, of your rage.
I am only afraid that I will still love you after you are done.
Sometimes I wonder about my importance in the world and how long it would take for someone to notice I’m missing. For instance: If I leave my home this morning, I could presumably stay out all day and all night and no one would wonder about where I am. It wouldn’t necessarily be strange for no one to hear from me as there are days when I’ve gone nowhere, spoken to no one and all was well with the world. How many days in a row could I leave the house and not speak to anyone before someone wondered about me? Three days? Five days? I’m not sure but I’m alarmed that I’m not sure. What if something did happen to me? What if I were kidnapped? Taken for ransom (fat chance but work with me here)? How many days would my family wait before reporting me missing? I mean I am grown, and taken to staying out with friends or a lover every now and again and I’ve always come back in one piece but still… Perhaps I need to seek out a designated person who knows where I am all the time so in the event that I ever went missing they could have the timeline down. Isn’t that how it works on T.V?
Confessions of a Thinkaholic 