I haven't really been able to write, or type, or draw as well as I would have been able to. I've got bags under my eyes that I can see, and I know it's from the tiredness I feel. I found out that no matter the time I always manage to only get seven hours of sleep even though I know I need more than just that, but my body won't allow it. All imagination aside for a little bit, or perhaps just a bit more imagination needed for a little bit, let me show you the scene.
It is the kind of night, where you feel at peace, and drowsy, but not enough so that you fall asleep from keeping your eyes open long enough until you pass out. You can handle the feeling of drowsiness as one to be sleepy, and you close your eyes. However, just closing your eyes for long enough just makes you feel like you need to shift to be comfortable in bed. When you do, you're wide awake so you just stare at the ceiling. Then you decide that you aren't really drowsy at all anymore, and sit up in the dark in you bed. The covers falling off your shoulders and pooling around your waist now since you're up. You look around for a bit, pissed off or slightly annoyed at the lack of sleep you know you're getting, but nonetheless go along with it and take out your phone from wherever it is. You scroll through Instagram or snapchat for a couple of seconds before putting your phone done because now you know for sure that you really aren't in the mood for anything and really just need to sleep. Eventually, you sit back against a nearby headboard or wall and play music that you like, the kind that just is for long car rides, or chilling. No matter the music, you just listen, no bopping or anything.
But then, you do fall asleep earlier than you usually do, but then after certain amount of hours you get up too early the next day and can't fall asleep. Your consciousness won't let you, and you just lay there, eyes closed, wide awake in bed waiting until you actually do have to get up.
That's how my days have been, although it may be my first time really realizing all of this in that sequence. I just really need something to take my mind off things, but nothing can really do that for long considering I read too fast, and there isn't anything that satisfies me besides my own stories. Even then, I can't stand to write anything right now because I can't think of anything I really want to say and express. The keyboard watches me like it knows I haven't really been giving it any love, but perhaps tonight I'll get a minimum of five hours of sleep, staying up late and trying to get back into the flow of the nights I spent thinking, and writing.
