Tired
The clock ticks over to 4:33; I've stayed up a little too late again.
I rub my eyes and close the half finished job application open on my phone. That, and the twenty other random tabs. Pictures, queries and porn. Each one marks minutes of another sleepless night. Even after clearing the cache, the thoughts don't disappear.
The insistence that sleep is unnecessary leads me to open Facebook for the hundredth time that past day. Not much has changed, as expected. The same few posts with a couple of extra comments. Companies upload their scheduled ads.
No one has touched that creative piece I posted. Not mine at least. The other one I shared got rave reviews. I hope the artist is happy. I hope they're proud. I'm not bitter. Okay, I'm bitter. But I'm honest. I am proud of them.
Like I'm proud of my friends.
I scroll back through one more time and play out their posts vicariously. Job interviews, degrees, houses, achievements, fame, glory, happiness, love and pride. I get maybe one of these things once in a blue moon. It's okay though. At least they're happy. I'll deal with it.
I close the app, half lying that I won't open it again before bed. I'll try some games. Wait, no, I ran out of lives to play with today. Typical.
Struggling to find another excuse to stay awake, a shift and quiet noise grabs my attention. The partner, trying to sleep. He has to get to early to travel for an interview. Look at him, taking responsibility for his debts. I envy him. Clutching at the reoccurring ache in my ribs, I look around. Enveloped in the light cloak of darkness, a distant ringing echoes in my ears. It's not enough to drown it the chaos of chatter that is my brain. It can't settle on a problem to think about at this time.
Shut up for once why don't you.
20 minutes has now passed. We're approaching 5am. I'm still not asleep. The light starting to seep in through the curtains is going to make it very difficult to soon. I guess I'll just have to deal with it as well.
I should probably lie down. Not like that'd be much more comfortable. Tonight's pain has manifested in body aches and numb fingers and mild sense of nausea. Not that I ate anything bad, I just remembered that I ate a whole large pizza in one sitting. I wasn't even hungry by the last three slices. I was going to save them for breakfast, so why did I fucking eat it!?
Sigh. No use crying over lost pizza. I'll sleep it off and forget things by morning, like I always do.
I'll sleep in my shitty, stuffy, light filled, mess ridden room, alongside my greatly more responsible partner. I love and hate this. I love him. I hate the room.
But I don't want to let either one go. Not yet. I'm not ready.
I should go to sleep, take advantage of what I have left.
I'm so tired.
It's 5:05. My body hurts. My eyes are fluttering. Exhaustion is holding back a panic attack.
I need sleep.
I want sleep.
...
I open Facebook up again.
I rub my eyes and close the half finished job application open on my phone. That, and the twenty other random tabs. Pictures, queries and porn. Each one marks minutes of another sleepless night. Even after clearing the cache, the thoughts don't disappear.
The insistence that sleep is unnecessary leads me to open Facebook for the hundredth time that past day. Not much has changed, as expected. The same few posts with a couple of extra comments. Companies upload their scheduled ads.
No one has touched that creative piece I posted. Not mine at least. The other one I shared got rave reviews. I hope the artist is happy. I hope they're proud. I'm not bitter. Okay, I'm bitter. But I'm honest. I am proud of them.
Like I'm proud of my friends.
I scroll back through one more time and play out their posts vicariously. Job interviews, degrees, houses, achievements, fame, glory, happiness, love and pride. I get maybe one of these things once in a blue moon. It's okay though. At least they're happy. I'll deal with it.
I close the app, half lying that I won't open it again before bed. I'll try some games. Wait, no, I ran out of lives to play with today. Typical.
Struggling to find another excuse to stay awake, a shift and quiet noise grabs my attention. The partner, trying to sleep. He has to get to early to travel for an interview. Look at him, taking responsibility for his debts. I envy him. Clutching at the reoccurring ache in my ribs, I look around. Enveloped in the light cloak of darkness, a distant ringing echoes in my ears. It's not enough to drown it the chaos of chatter that is my brain. It can't settle on a problem to think about at this time.
Shut up for once why don't you.
20 minutes has now passed. We're approaching 5am. I'm still not asleep. The light starting to seep in through the curtains is going to make it very difficult to soon. I guess I'll just have to deal with it as well.
I should probably lie down. Not like that'd be much more comfortable. Tonight's pain has manifested in body aches and numb fingers and mild sense of nausea. Not that I ate anything bad, I just remembered that I ate a whole large pizza in one sitting. I wasn't even hungry by the last three slices. I was going to save them for breakfast, so why did I fucking eat it!?
Sigh. No use crying over lost pizza. I'll sleep it off and forget things by morning, like I always do.
I'll sleep in my shitty, stuffy, light filled, mess ridden room, alongside my greatly more responsible partner. I love and hate this. I love him. I hate the room.
But I don't want to let either one go. Not yet. I'm not ready.
I should go to sleep, take advantage of what I have left.
I'm so tired.
It's 5:05. My body hurts. My eyes are fluttering. Exhaustion is holding back a panic attack.
I need sleep.
I want sleep.
...
I open Facebook up again.
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