This is Me

Very indefinitely positively negatively me.

This is me. A raging hormonal mess; pulsating, breathing, expanding, contracting and occasionally this results in spillage if not complete combustion.

Me: “I like to smoke at night cuz it helps me sleep.”

Her: “So you have insomnia?”

Me: “Umm not exactly it only takes me a few hours to get to sleep___”

Her: “Ya insomnia, my sister has it.”

Me: “Yes well it is not like I lie awake all night every night or anything.”

Sleep, an essential component of human life. It is what recharges our immune system to fight disease and sickness. It is what clears the thick fog away from our fragile minds so we can function normally and perhaps even process complex mathematical equations or write 5000 word essays. Why do I struggle with entering it? Is it the screens, the backlights, the flashing-mesmerizing code projecting so many stimulating visuals and information? Well, the way I have put it makes it seem so. I am addicted to accessing the internet, looking for entertainment and knowledge. Maybe I should turn it off and go to bed, or maybe I should watch 5 episodes straight of pokemon indigo league. Or maybe, I should watch an hours worth of Stefan Molynuex teaching and preaching philosophy on youtube. Yes, that is what I will do, after all sleep is overrated. HA you wont be saying that in the morning though when your eyes are filled with sand and your head is shrouded in grey haze.

Why must I be so thoroughly defined by cycles during my life time? The cycle of sleep, the cycle of depression, the cycle of addiction. Why must I consolidate these issues to me?, so many people experience these same issues and, yet, I think I am special. A snow flake. A glimmering star with a great black hole in it’s epicenter. With out a doubt, if one were to take the time to view me or anyone else under a finer magnification they would see that they are in fact unique, but, how many people do you know that take their time to lean down and smell the flowers, or look at each individual snow flake? Only when the weather fairs their way. Only when they woke up on the right side of the bed, too bad were all f*****g insomniacs, slaves to the screens.

I am learning to enjoy the more delicate aspects of life, but until I am a fully enlightened being (which I will be never) I will look outside into the -23 degrees Celsius winter vista and see snow banks not snow flakes. 

In hindsight I may see that my difficulties with death’s dearest cousin, sleep may have something to do with my social anxieties. I have learnt rather unfluidly to hide my anxieties away, lock them in a tiny box and jingle the keys accidentally in public. I wonder if my peers can hear the faint jingle in my pocket. I wonder if they can here it when I cheerfully introduce myself,

“Hi! I’m ASK, how are you?”.

 

Salty tears well up and roll down my cheek, and they taste like self loath, pity, anger and confoundedness all thrown into one of those magic bullets, pulverized and sampled like fine wine. This wine is not fine. This wine is the essence of adolescence, confusion and first world problems.

If you made it this far into my piece, you may feel it does not connect, flow or represent any kind of English class essay, rather it is a direct stream from the beats of my heart to my mind to my fingers which swiftly tap little black keys pouring digital emotion onto the screen. Maybe. JUST MAYBE. The screen one day will be a slave to me.

Author's Note

You should review it because perhaps it is relatable, or maybe it isnt. Either way you should go to town on it!

Reviews

[MeathooksMcGee]

I have learnt rather unfluidly to hide my anxieties away, lock them in a tiny box and jingle the keys accidentally in public.

NICE!

[AskTheStreamer88]

Haha! Thank you sir!