Earlier today, and again five minutes ago, I had this overwhelming urge to finish my vignette/essay/short story/novel/whatever it will turn out to be. But earlier, I got distracted by an internship information session and just now, he sighed and rolled over in his sleep and made me consider how little sleep I get lately. How maybe, I should just let myself go to bed early tonight. And now I don't really feel like writing any more.
The problem is, there's this slightly restless energy tugging at the edge of my consciousness, and I know that the second I lie down and turn off the light I'll be completely incapable of sleep. Which will in turn make me more uptight and alert, which will either lead to a panic attack or (more likely), a very long, annoying, boring night of insomnia. Not the good, productive kind of insomnia, where one can't sleep and instead accomplishes all matter of tasks that couldn't be tackled during the day; no, it would be a frustrating insomnia, filled with tossing and turning and uselessness.Maybe I'll just turn on the TV and watch until I drift off...the keyboard and screen in front of me have already lost their third dimension, a sure sign that my brain is overworked.
I kind of like getting to this point, though. I can see my fingers flying delicately across the keys as my thoughts materialize in pixels. It's far preferable to writing with pen and paper, I think; it's faster to type and I don't have to make my brain slow down to meet the limitations of my body. As much. I just open up and let it all flow, a stream of consciousness from electrical mental processes to electrical technological reactions.
I'm babbling. Goodnight.
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