And Sometimes Three Hours is Enough

I got too much sleep. I drug myself from thinking thoughts by not getting enough sleep. Because that way, that way, I don’t think, and my brain is quiet, and it’s peaceful. All I can think about is how tired I am. I don’t think about anything but how soon I can rest. I feel less.

And my feelings of being less become forgotten. My brain thinks one wave at a time. My deeds have no impact later. There is not enough power to determine how me doing this today will prevent me from having to do this at a later point, when it will take more time. I can’t hold all the numbers in my head.

I regulate my atmosphere with sleep deprivation. The thoughts shoot slower. No new connections are formed. If I can’t think, then there’s no one inside my head to berate. No one constantly reminds I should have done this yesterday. Instead I tell myself I should have gotten more sleep.

Without much thought, the day goes by so much faster. When the night falls, I think, “I don’t want to go to sleep, because I don’t want to wake up tomorrow.” So I stay up late again. So I don’t have to think big, connecting, devious thoughts that turn my mind against my skull.

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