Sleep does not come easy to those who want it. Why else would I be awake at this hour, eating frozen corn and spacing out?
I said goodnight hours ago, to the fish boy and the evil twin. And yet, I'm still lying here, awake.
The frozen corn- it is not good for me, I think. Despite being the infamous 17 Crows, eater of corn, it's bland and it's raw and it's frozen corn. I trekked downstairs in the inky darkness for this corn- I knew my way around, even as the void rendered me blind. Though I should've known wiser, that childish part of me still felt that the monsters once hidden behind doors I've kicked were lurking there in the shadows, just out of sight and reach.
Sleep- it is something many have chided me about. From the little dragon to mighty lizardfolk and many more, an intricate web of friends and foes alike, woven by my innate silliness. How many have said those same words to me, all whispering and echoing in the mind of the little child they helped grow?
I think tomorrow I will apologise to all the pigeons that I've annoyed.
YOU ARE READING
the Mad Stargazer's ramblings
Horrora lost soul wanders among the apocalypse, longing to see their friends once again. [written in my notes app, when i couldn't sleep] tags (because I'm used to ao3 format): horror?? descent into insanity
