Insomnia

Woke up this morning
Got myself a gun
Momma always said you’d be the...

Zombie-like I rise from the twisted heap of clothes and covers that qualifies as bed only because it is above the ground. Sometime in the night, the endless, endless night, I got naked. I don’t remember when. According to my alarm clock, which I had to hide under a pile of books lest its winking orange eyes accuse me, the time is 67 minutes past 88. Glad we got that cleared up.

I know the moment I turn on the light I will feel muzzy, grainy-eyed, and deep-in-the-bone weary. But with the lights out its much less dangerous, except, of course, for the brain meltdown actively turning me into the living dead. The walk to the door, a mere thousand metres away takes a minute, which ain’t bad really. I feel a bit like the movie Gothika – like a pile of shit. And that movie had the blinking undead girl thing! That too.

The tap water tastes a little like dusty cobwebs and manages to make me thirstier. I sit on the toilet in the buff and stare morosely into the bathtub, where a small man cloaked in shadows gives me a pale smile and strokes a moonwhite pumpkin. Not wanting to piss him off, I slowly get up and totter for the door.

The corridor yawns away like my parents’ regret at letting me take a Bachelor of Arts. I fall over a parade of sleeping dogs and into the mirror that hangs just next to my door. In the darkness, it catches and reflects blackness in every direction, and the glass-half-full-moon looks like a will-o-wisp chilling by the ceiling, painting moon-graffiti everywhere. The moon, Fuck that guy.

Just... fuckin’ fuck that guy. Man.

Now I’m sitting on my ‘bed’ again with the bedsheets coiled like a serpentine turban on my head. I’ve fashioned a crude skirt from my shirt and apparently am trying to get my arms to go through the legs of my sleeping shorts.
Welcome to the defining night of your life – the one you’ll have every night.