Insomnia, aah, my oldest friend! I’ll look on the bright side and say that at least, my creativity is skyrocking. My eyes are on fire and hands are sore from all the writing. And no, I’m not working on my freaking term paper about which ways phenomenology helped grasp a new understanding of existence and helped describe precisely what living is. Although I should really glue my butt to my chair and finish that one. But I can’t, I have this vomit of words that I have to lay on paper, I have to get it all out.
I love the peace though, everything is quite, steady. If I wasn’t scared of getting abducted and if it wasn’t this cold ( - 6°C man… WTF ), I’ll put my coat on and go for a walk. Gosh I wish I could, I’m tempted. If I was still living in the city I would, but nope, I’m in suburbia where getting a decent cup of coffee equals a 40 mins bus ride. But living here has its sweetness. It’s far, far from frat and home parties, thus far from drunken university students shouting at 3 am, no cops sirens every 10 mins: BLISS. I always look forward to my hot shower and quite eve after a hectic day, thank you suburbia, I love you.
They say that it’s on late nights that confessions bloom, it feels right to reveal what is untold and all that jazz. At least, that’s what the wise say. You know the ones who make all these rules about how we should spend our lives and what it should be, that we should all follow that life recipe: grow up, go to school, get a degree, tie the not, have a job, pop kids out, have a pet before that one just to make sure you can take care of a living creature, grow old, and you know…*quweak* eternal sleep if you know what I mean…
Geez! I don’t know what I’m saying anymore! I think I’ve embarrassed my self enough for tonight. sleep tight you lucky bastards!
So yeah, cheers to another sleepless night.
— Jun’ichirõ Tanizaki, In Praise of Shadows (via fuckyeahexistentialism)
via Anne Fernald(via readandbreathe)