Nocturnal Artist

Last night, I had a dream that I was on an airplane. I had a four hour flight, I desperately needed to pee, and I was afraid to use the bathroom. Instead of getting over my fear of airplane toilets, I called JM on my cell phone and told him about my situation. We joked and chatted about it until the airplane landed, and I could find an alternate bathroom in the airport.

I'm annoyed with some of my classes. I do my work, get mostly A's, but I feel like a drone. I am less inclined to think for myself. When I was one of four hundred and my teachers knew my name, it was easy to take pride in my individuality. Now I feel like a statistic.

I should sleep, but I know that as soon as I pull the covers over myself I will not be able to. I have been an insomniac for as long as I can remember. I have tried everything that has ever been suggested to me. Sleeping pills induced a sort of artificial sleep. Evening exercise left my body exhausted, but my mind awake. Chamomile tea helped me become slightly more relaxed, but nothing more.

I often went to high school after sleeping for less than an hour. Sometimes, I went without sleeping at all. I wonder if it will shorten my life.

Perhaps the worst part is, I honestly don't want to give up the night.