sleepless in the spring.

insomniacs quatre:

I haven’t had any sleep since Sunday, now my head hurts and footsteps seem costly, eyes burn like lava beds and my throat is dry like Death Valley. My heart, content and sentimental. But it’s only after long moments of pondering the many minutes, moments, smiles I have seen, my childhood, the first time my lips made contact with a girl, riding my bmx down to the circle k by the freeway for a jumbo pickle and big Gulp, falling in love again in my early twenties. Things often don’t go well like on my first date when I elbowed Christina in the eye while trying to do the “distract the girl by yawning and but your arm over her shoulder trick,” which only works in movies. But anyway misadventured dates are topic of a different story. This one is about the new found insomnia that has been perpetually visiting in these days of 2010. I couldn’t really say when this started. It seems as if no pivotal instance can be found. Maybe I am dying, maybe its resurrection. All I know is that things are changing and every day I am heaving hallucinations, overloaded with emotions. Along with them come burning lights that leave painful incisions on my pupils. Even my hygiene is taking a beating, not that showering ever seemed very enticing to begin with. There’s something very unpleasant with the feeling that comes after being in water for to long. How long would it take for a person to turn 100% water? I’m thinking somewhere between three and four days. But this isn’t backed up by any real facts and I am far from being a dermatologist. There have been many suggestions for curing my sleepless torment things like Melatonin, chamomile tea, marijuana, and even drinking before bed. None of which I have made an effort to try. Last night when Sarah and I were in bed I was sighing to distract myself from the tossing and turning. But I don’t think she liked it very much. “Do some Yoga,” she told me. Stretch, breath, be the swan. Perhaps the corpse pose. At times I’ve wanted to apologize for this unstable sleeping pattern. Apologize to her, to my neighbor who have to hear my blaring trumpet to off set moment of the night, to my dog Marley who’s been loyally keeping me company and missing out on her midnight walkabouts and to myself for God knows what. But when I try to extend these apologies, the over amplified Ticks and Tocks drown out my voice and leave me defeated and in many ways too embarrassed to talk about the condition of sleeplessness. “Stop Stressing!” Sarah’s voice echoes. Kiss me to sleep I plead in silence. Remind me of childhood, warm embraces and better times.

Day Six of Sleeplessness
from the secound issue of the Common Good Press zine of College of the Desert.
for a copy email fameconnection@gmail.com