Thursday, August 26, 2010


It's 7:27 in the morning. AM if you will. I haven't gone to sleep yet. This has become a regular occurrence. And yes, we're going to ignore the fact that I've been absent for far too long.

Now that I'm writing it all out, talking again to the only people I can be truly (mostly) honest with (if anyone still even reads this), I suspect I know the true reason behind this insomnia.

Everyone says I'm still adjusting to the time zone. What they don't realize is if this is true, I should be going to bed earlier, not later. I should be getting tired in the afternoon, waking in the early hours of the morning. Instead, I wait until the sun has risen, and tuck myself into bed for a good part of the day.

The other thing that complicates matters is I was doing the same thing in England. I slept when I saw the first rays of sunshine light up that horrible little room I lived in.

Something about me has fundamentally changed. I don't feel the same and I don't have the same feelings. I think I just want to be alone. I sleep during the day to avoid company and responsibility and I live my days when everyone else is asleep. Just leave me alone please. It's almost a little alarming. I don't feel terribly strong about much anything, unless you count the ache of my imagined failures.

But I don't need to tell you what imagined failure feels like. It's pathetic how it has become a recurring theme in my lifetime.

I haven't forgotten about anyone, but sometimes I don't think I have enough emotional energy to lift my head. To put things in perspective, my master's dissertation is due on September 15th and I haven't written a word. I just can't bear to put my thoughts into anything productive. I wish you all could just poke around inside my head and pull out something that looks interesting to you. Mental yard sale. I'm probably full of bad records and plastic furniture.

I have a bad cold. I remember the days when I could turn it into a positive and think, "At least I won't be hungry." Right now, sick or healthy, I don't even care. I've come to the realization that fat or thin, hungry or full, I don't feel pretty or happy or successful and nothing is going to change that. What does that leave me with?

If you need to find me, I'll be the one sleeping until dusk. Like a vampire, only less cliche.

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