Insomniac: The beginning of the end ...

I often believe that my mind is secretly plotting against me.


Me, Nicholas, a.k.a Sal, a.k.a saintends, a.k.a the grim reaper's right hand patsy...Casually rolling over and conceding, nightly, to free samples of death; sweet, unreclaimable sleep.


Why do we sleep, anyways? Peer-pressure? Only because everyone else is doing it?
'"If all of your friends jumped off of a cliff, would you? " , it [my(?)mind] asks me in it's best imitation of my mother's voice.


wake up...your dreamin', i can't stand your screamin'....


Why the Hell am I still awake? It's not like I am missing out on anything. Everyone i know is comfortably tucked in, jammies and all ; dreaming of better interest rates and a Christmas bonus. But...

What if everytime I close my eyes, the world kicks off the biggest planetary shindig, ever...and I slept through it all?

I'll be damned if I miss out on all that just for a nap.


What if...What if...What if...What if...


So,as i sit here typing [not sleeping], living [not sleeping], nonconforming [not sleeping],and contemplating [not sleeping]... you all sleep and get some rest.

But don't worry, i'll still be vigilantly standing here; playing look-out to the world for you.

Oh...and when you finally wake up, if you open your eyes and find me with my eyes closed....


I'm not sleeping, I'm just resting my eyes....