Insomnia . . .

Insomnia is failure. Such a sense of failure . . . Not being able to do something that every other animal on the planet can do is pretty depressing.
Insomnia is waiting. Waiting for the moment when exhaustion catches up to you and you finally loose conciousness. The moment when finally your mind can't fight off sleep any longer.
Insomnia is anxiety. Spending all day worrying about when you will get to sleep tonight. Will I sleep tonight? Will I be able to function tomorrow?
Insomnia is math. If I get to sleep by 5:30 that gives me two and half hours of sleep before the Production Meeting. Then if I can sleep for forty-five minutes before the matinee that equals three and a quarter hours of sleep before I have to call the show.
Insomnia is being trapped. Trapped on the wrong side of the day. Sleep is the bridge from today to tomorrow. I cannot cross that bridge. Like a poor soul who Phlegyas won't ferry across the Styx. My bedroom becomes my limbo, my purgatory. I am trapped, unable to join the millions of other sleeping humans bridging one day to the next.
Insomnia is fear. I feel the night outside my window pressing in. Trying to crush my room. Day is huge but night is tiny. Miniscule. Close. Night creeps toward you like some 1950's horror movie creature, it's advance is slow and tedious. It reaches in to touch me. To crush me. Swallow me into its oblivion. I know I need it and yet I fear it too much to give in.

Bonfire and Epiphany

The other evening I had an epiphany. I was standing at the fire alternately making small talk and watching the mating display of the barterbreeder males and someting occurred to me . . . it was the first time in quite a while that I didn't feel like the group was dividing into armed camps. One side hating the other. Now certainly we have had a recent development that greatly overshadowed any petty disagreements the hoi poloi may have. But I keep having this sneaking suspicion that it wasn't the people there who had changed but my perspective. My perspective had changed because of who or who I wasn't socializing with. It is amazing how a single person can warp other people's perceptions.
I am dreadfully naive when it comes to other people's agendas, I always have been. I approach friendships with a frightening innocence. So it always takes me by surprise when I realize someone is using me. It's sad when you realize a person that you care for deeply is bad for you. I came to that realization at the bonfire. I think I have known this for a while but haven't truly admitted it to myself until now.
As for the mating displays . . . oy . . . I should write a book. It was kind of fun to watch, fun like a 50's carnival side show, you know it is cruel and inhuman but you pay a nickel to watch anyway. On the plus side for the evening I spoke with an old friend I hadn't spoken with in a long time and we realized how much we miss each other. It makes me sad and angry to think how easily I allowed myself to become hijacked by bitterness and negativity last year.

To my english major friends or students of the greek language I know saying "the hoi polloi" is redundant, like saying "PIN Number" but it just sounded weird with out the article.

Why I Love My Parents

Mom's New Car
Originally uploaded by Johnxiv.

So today my parents bought a car. Want to know why they bought a car? Because, as Mom told me, "we had just eaten lunch and had some time to kill before we went to a movie." When I asked her if she had traded in her SUV she said "No, now I have a winter car and a summer car". Normally it is men who have mid-life crises, but that seems it won't be the case in my family.

I do have to admit that Mom is kind of adorable in it.

Robbing Graveyards

I haven't had time to post recently thanks to tech week. The week kind of got away from me. By Thursday I was completely behind in everything. It was one of those weeks that by the end I was so tired I got a little crazy. This morning when I woke up I couldn't actually remember which day it was . . . anyway on to the post:

Warning to the reader: This post reveals my complete insanity. If you wish to keep the illusion of me as a stable, sane person do not continue reading.

When I get over something I create a little mental list of why each event happened and how it produced a benefit in my life. I try to hold to the philosophy that events don't matter except in how we react to them. So I compile these lists in my head. But whenever I get tired or particularly self-destructive I have this nasty little habit. When I get in a certain mood, I like to edit these lists. Basically I play "What If?" with my past, I call this little pasttime "robbing the graveyard". The consequence of this is I often find myself sad or angry about an event that happened a year, two or three ago. Then I have go about the task of re-proving the list. It has happened a lot in the last year, I have always done this but recently it is happening more. The thing that scares me is that maybe I have shifted my self-destructive activities from physical to mental. In moments of dread I think this may be the price I have to pay for improving my physical health.

I did proclaim 2005 as the "Year of Crazy". . . It sucks to be a prophet.