It’s 2:25 am. This is what happens when I don’t have zzzquil. I’m bored. I’m tired. I’m wide awake. If it was warmer out I might go for a walk, or lay out on my roof and make up my own constellations. I laid out there with a blanket and a lemon tart on my birthday this year, I lit candles and sang the birthday song and cried, because little H was disappointed and so was I. I don’t remember what I wished for, probably the same thing I always wish for on 11:11. I know it doesn’t sound like it, but it was actually a nice moment. I’m a melancholy kinda girl lately, I suppose. Or, more accurately, realistic.
It’s a strange thing to me that there are 28 people who’ve randomly stumbled across my thoughts and followed this blog. Likes are an odd business. I’m always curious what the liking action entails for a person, and what specifically they liked. I’m also interested, maybe more so, in what wasn’t as “liked”. I want to very thoroughly evaluate opinions and develop an understanding of each persons liking thought process–or lack thereof. Every action means something, but not every action is a conscious decision. I don’t want to get caught up in the literal “being liked” aspect, because this isn’t a true evaluate of that– and it gets into a weird approval thing I want to stay away from. I am curious, though.
Brains are a weird place. All those neurons and synapses and other fun words. I like to think they’re super squishy and malleable, like I could use one to scrub my sink or something. My brain’s probably blue instead of pink, I don’t let it have enough oxygen. Sometimes it feels like it’s expanding in my head. It’s 2:50 am. I’m gonna be fucking pissed when my alarm goes off. I’m going to groan and be angry at my nighttime predicament. I’m going to think: how much do I really need my job? How important is being responsible really? How awesome would sleeping in feel? I am going to drink six or eight shots of espresso and still yawn. I’m going to promise to take a nap later, I won’t. Then I’ll promise to go to sleep early tomorrow night and won’t do that either. I’ll get distracted, caught up wasting time. It’s 3:00 am. Forty five minutes and four hundred words.