Insomnia and the State of Sebastian
I toss.
I turn.
I make myself a burrito in my blanket.
I stick a leg out and let it dangle off the mattress.
I say fuck it and grab my phone and start writing this post.
I am not a great sleeper, at least not at night, not when I’m supposed to be sleeping. This isn’t something new, not some side effect of growing older, or my brain being unable to shut off simmering and bubbling with whatever fresh horrors the day has brought up. I mean, I’m sure those things don’t help, but they aren’t the root cause.
Historically, my inability to sleep has led to me doing most of my writing then. If I’m going to be awake, then I’m going to be productive, goddamnit. Take that, universe. That’ll teach you. These days though… not so much. I haven’t been able to really get those gears in motion just now, and it kind of sucks, you know? I understand the advice usually offered up is to just write something, just write anything, to prime the pump, but that never works with me. No, my well is dry right now, and I’ve got to wait for some rainstorms to come and fill it up again.
And so now I’m awake in the night, and not writing (yes, I’m writing this post, I know, hush).
I stick out a leg.
I make a blanket burrito.
I turn.
I toss.
Some rain will fall again soon.
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