Thoughts of a Friday Night Call
They say distract yourself.
Well, let's recap, shall we?
I work almost 10 hours a day. I spent other 2 hours on the road going back and forth between home and work. I usually have some errands to be done after work, so that could add up an extra couple hours. So about 12 to 16 hours a day are literally lost. That leaves around 8 hours, huh? No, I never sleep for straight 8 hours, I barely cross straight 5 hours of sleep.
Books, everywhere in my room spreading randomly and in a very messy way. Books that I started, books that I never finished, books that am on midway to finish them and other totally unread books.
The keyboard, yeah I play the piano and try to lose myself within the notes of music. The unspoken language of feelings and imagination. I workout in the morning, trying to be in shape somehow. But the real point of workout is to force my body to be tired so I could fall asleep easily later in the day.
I read till I drop to sleep. Still, I wake up in the middle of the night, and my mind just never shuts down. Even my dreams are complicated, my subconscious mind just carries all the events of the day, the stories of the past and the hopes slash expectations for the future and mingles them together to form a tasteless juice of feelings, fear and anxiety just enough to wake me up in the middle of the night, to think. Just to think.
Well, let's recap, shall we?
I work almost 10 hours a day. I spent other 2 hours on the road going back and forth between home and work. I usually have some errands to be done after work, so that could add up an extra couple hours. So about 12 to 16 hours a day are literally lost. That leaves around 8 hours, huh? No, I never sleep for straight 8 hours, I barely cross straight 5 hours of sleep.
Books, everywhere in my room spreading randomly and in a very messy way. Books that I started, books that I never finished, books that am on midway to finish them and other totally unread books.
The keyboard, yeah I play the piano and try to lose myself within the notes of music. The unspoken language of feelings and imagination. I workout in the morning, trying to be in shape somehow. But the real point of workout is to force my body to be tired so I could fall asleep easily later in the day.
I read till I drop to sleep. Still, I wake up in the middle of the night, and my mind just never shuts down. Even my dreams are complicated, my subconscious mind just carries all the events of the day, the stories of the past and the hopes slash expectations for the future and mingles them together to form a tasteless juice of feelings, fear and anxiety just enough to wake me up in the middle of the night, to think. Just to think.
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