Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Day 55: Too Tired to Sleep
I have hit that point of exhaustion where silliness has set in. Lucid, wonderful creative space where a million ideas could become art if only I had the time to pace them in the wilds of my mind. I want to run with the animals that kick up the dust in there, run hard until my thighs are frothy and sore and my mane is flying in the wind. I started a poem....and can't finish it because I know it's like a half boiled egg, to runny to lose its shell. I have to let it simmer a bit longer.
My belly is growling in the most distracting way. It doesn't want to let me sleep but I don't want to feed an 11pm monster and watch it grow. More water. More water. Everything needs more water right? The roommates made popcorn, the kind you cook in a popper on top of the stove where you crank the handle so it turns just right in the kettle, and the smell has been wafting up the stairs to my room.
This space is where I should be creating. I know the minute I stop typing I am going to close my eyes for an instant and wake up to an alarm buzzing with my fingers cuddling the keyboard of a dead little Macbook like a mourner at a wake clings to their compassion.
This is the time I'd normally be Facebooking. I'm going to be responsible and use it to sleep.
Sleep is > (not = to!) Facebook.