insomnia
untitled
i'm awake. i'm alone. neither of these facts are suprises to me, but that doesn't make them any less depressing.
it's 5:20. i planned to go to church tomorrow - well, today, i guess.
no way i'm going now. not because i don't want too. i miss going to church. no, it's just that me with only 5 hours sleep in me is not really me in the best mindset to consider the divine.
i'm sure Jesus would disagree. well, not sure. i just know that in the bible a person died once because he fell asleep in the temple. he was sitting up in a windowsill, and kinda just rolled over. most of the time when you roll over in your sleep, you just, well, roll over. this poor kid rolled over and over and down.
point is i don't want to fall asleep in a church where people barely know me.
it's not like i make good first impressions anyways.
one of my dearest friends hated me for about a month after our first meeting. now we love each other. not in a romantic sense, no. i'm not even bitter about it, really.
she's in love with one of my best friends. and he's in love with her.
two of the people i respect the most in the world kissing each other is a beautiful thing to me, for some reason.
i pray they get married. i hope to speak at their wedding one day.
i doubt i'll be able to keep from tearing up.
i crawl out of bed and walk into my floors kitchen + hallway + living room.
grace is typing something on facebook. sam is watching harry potter movies.
"i give up sleeping." i mumble, and stumble towards the bathroom.
i'm wearing these weird boxer shorts i bought recently. my waist is either 36 or 38. not sure.
anyways, they fit my waist but are kind of long, and poof out.
i feel vaugly like a court jester, as i look at myself in the mirror.
my bladder evacuates and i realize that i'm water fat.
i love the dune series, by frank herbert. i wish i could be a fremen. but i can't, because they aren't real.
and, i drink too much water.
something like 60 oz a day. i don't know how much that really is, all i know is that it's like three water bottles full.
(as soon as i type this i consider going back and changing it too a higher and therefor more impressive number.
the fact that i honestly drink maybe twice that amount a day doesn't factor into this thought. i just want to be badass.)
i wonder why i'm thinking these thoughts that i know i'm going to transcribe later, (that is, right now), when i don't think anyones going to read this. this is where i'd beg for comments, but whatever. i'd say i don't care, but i kind of do. however, it's not really important.
most standup comics suck.
most writing sucks.
most everything sucks, especially when you can't sleep.
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