Split Sides

That Incessant Banging Called Insomnia

In as little as three minutes I can have a hundred to a thousand words and thoughts rushing through my mind like a flood. I can never predict when it strikes; some nights I can sleep soundly and some nights it punches my consciousness like a mental subwoofer. Tonight it's 4am in a Monday morning and yet I find myself haunted by the events and my actions/reactions last Saturday. Went into a mini-gathering of dealers of independent merchants and saw a copy of Americanah I've had my eyes on for so long ever since I saw Ms Adichie's interview on Amanpour. I should have bid aggressively for that book instead of letting some entitled Yank take it home. I bet I'll have to wait till next year to see it again.

Invited someone from the monthly therapy session I go to and I was glad that person turned up, but that glee turned to bitterness (as disappointment is too weak) when that person decided to leave at 4pm than the 8pm we had agreed to beforehand. As if that wasn't enough salt on the wound, there was a Dutchman having a talk about the ins/outs of the publishing industry in one of the private rooms that intrigued me, only to arrive there 15 minutes later to find someone else discussing labor relations and the failures of neoliberalism to womankind and all that faux-political bullshit. God give me strength! And also the wisdom and memory never to spend 140 bucks on an overpriced plastic cup of iced latte that tasted more like rusted metal than coffee!

What bothered me about that event was not what transpired in it, but how I reacted to it. In the comfort and solitude of my bed I can say I was too compromising, too nice, too gullible, too insecure and fearful of myself. If I could do it again, I would have an argument with that Yank over the possession of that book (as it's #1 in my mental list of books to read) and delayed that calzone I ate till after that publishing industry lecture. Damn, I hate how I restrained myself too much that day.

But why do I put myself out there if it feels like I keep setting myself up for constant disappointment? Honestly, it's got a lot to do with this desire to meet new people. Not just to socialize and befriend, but to find avenues that would lead me to potential offers and eventual employment. I hope my irreverent creativity  and vernacular prowess is enough to overcome my lack of necessary requirements.

And you, dear reader, may be asking yourself, why would I put such trivial and personal hoopla out here for other bored viewers to roll their eyes on? Absolutely nothing. Just wanted to put this down here so that my brain would grant me enough peace to let me sleep. Goodnight.