wildseven

hmmm. well i was right. after the new year celebratory two day extravaganza i slept like a log. and i woke up different again. not good different. is it possible to become addicted to not sleeping? i don't know maybe an imbalance of ceratonin or something caused by not sleeping? i'm not actually asking, i'm more just generally thinking out loud... i don't know if anyone who reads these things was around for the loudmouth, brash version of me, but i was having a good time. my verbosity got the better of my eloquence. for a short period, the part of my brain craving good times, momentarily wrestled my better nature to the ground. i'm not apologising or anything because i know i didn't do anything too embarrassing or offensive, but still it was a welcome change. every once in a while anyway. i went to sleep that night smiling, clocking in at 41 hours awake. i had a 15 minute nap around noon on friday but apart from that i stayed awake for the entirety of those two days. 9am thursday to 1am friday night... actually, that's 40 hours... meh...... but when i woke up again this morning, saturday, it was gone. everything had reverted back to the norm. the stupid, complicated norm. i don't think it's a conscious complication. i have a few idea about it, which i'm going to share. i think that over the period of unsleep, at a certain point, a part of my brain switched off. the dark side of the moon. if i take some poetic license, which i will, i'm going to try and think it out. my brain is divided in two. the light side and the dark side. there's actually a whole spectrum of colours in there, but for simplicity it's divided into these two. the light side is all the good feelings. that surge you get after you tell a girl they're pretty and they don't get freaked out. that feeling you get when you realise: "hey! maybe she actually WAS flirting?!". when you're listening to music and you instictively soar at a certain point. your arm hair stands up. the back of your neck gets prickly and you can't help but shiver with "good"-ness. you have to physically react or you'll explode. this is the light side. the rarely felt side that might even be likened to happiness if it were to continue for any length of time. but then there's the dark side. that sinking feeling you get after you've worked up all your nerve to tell a girl they're pretty and they haven't heard you, or have missed what you said. that feeling when you realise: "oh... she was just trying to give me a flyer". when you're listening to music and you instictively plummet to your darkest depths at a certain part. your stomach gets that knotty feeling in the back. your eyes well up, your throat stiffens and you can't help but realise how disappointing your entire existence is. you have to do something to avoid becoming totally swamped in misery or wonder if there's any point in avoiding it this time. i think during the later stages of my unsleep, the dark side of the moon was illuminated... fully... for a short time. i think the dark side wound down it's constantly-spinning accretion disc, to borrow from black hole physics. the very engine that causes the dark times ceased it's mechanical rumblings. like an ancient generator turning it's wheel for the last time. the world has moved on, do ya ken. but after i slept it came back. the accretion disc started spinning again. slowly at first. but the ancient generator has sprung back to life. it's mechanical rumblings building back up to the constant, low thrum. increasing in pitch to a new level. might be a less obtrusive, lower hum. might be a higher, getting-under-your-skin type of hum. right now it's still transitional. weird...

in other news i was thinking of writing something. something autobiographical. every other avenue of expression i've tried has failed. and as you know, constant reader (to borrow from the foreword Stephen King puts at most of his books), i never really struggle with blog-writing. my epic blogs were massive. but within a week i had written almost the same again. i'm most prolific when recounting my life thusfar. i've half written a few short stories but i've run out of steam with them all. horror: hit a wall, emotional strife: ground to a halt, delusions and insanity: i can't develop a proper story without getting bogged down in internal monologue. i like writing blogs, so maybe i'll write about my life like a gigantic super-blog. i'll see what happens. in the words of Comic-Book Guy: toodle-oo

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