I don't sleep too well these days and I'm not sure why. Perhaps some deep and thoughtful psychoanalysis could shed some light on this but then again maybe it's the humidity in the air that messes with me.
Being tired constantly is interesting. The feeling of exhaustion isn't this consistent linear thing as it should be. The longer I'm awake the more tired I should be, right? I awaken from naps even more exhausted then before or I'm just sitting there when I gradually become more awake but not more alert. Things stop being a simple tired/awake dichotomy. I feel disconnected and simple things that cause guaranteed endorphin drips in my brain don't mean anything to me anymore. Tumblr stops being an endless scroll of mindless entertainment (combined with some in depth critical analysis, media theory, and feminist ideology in bite sized pieces of witty criticism on rape culture and patriarchy etc, let's not completely downplay Tumblr as entirely mindless) and it becomes... well it becomes a website. And what is a website? It's an image on an LCD screen. At its core it becomes black text on a blue background and what is the appeal of that...
I'm not addicted to anything when I'm tired. I'm free to whatever because I'm so disconnected from the world around me. My perspective changes on everything. Attachment dissolves and is replaced with a fresh attitude to everything and I realise that I'm sitting in front of a box due to routine... I don't actually care while I'm tired because my brain doesn't give me its all-natural-self-medicated happiness when it wants to switch off for a few hours.
I don't feel like I'm interacting with the world properly anymore. It's like I'm not quite there anymore. I feel things but I feel more inwardly if that makes sense... as if my experience is this insular bubble that is partially cut off from the world and the things around me have to seep in to make a proper impact on me. I'm floating around on different kinds of surfaces that don't matter as long as they're solid.
I have no motivation to do things because they require me to put more effort into them than I'm capable of exerting. I sit and think in fragments, in thoughts that lack words, an abstract drone of sleep deprived thought processes I quickly forget...
When there's no distinct feelings, no strong attachment to the world around me, that's when I feel my own presence. I sit there just sitting and existing.
If I don't sleep for long enough it is like meditation on the self. My mind empties... and all that is left is the fact that I exist.
I really need to sleep.
Being tired constantly is interesting. The feeling of exhaustion isn't this consistent linear thing as it should be. The longer I'm awake the more tired I should be, right? I awaken from naps even more exhausted then before or I'm just sitting there when I gradually become more awake but not more alert. Things stop being a simple tired/awake dichotomy. I feel disconnected and simple things that cause guaranteed endorphin drips in my brain don't mean anything to me anymore. Tumblr stops being an endless scroll of mindless entertainment (combined with some in depth critical analysis, media theory, and feminist ideology in bite sized pieces of witty criticism on rape culture and patriarchy etc, let's not completely downplay Tumblr as entirely mindless) and it becomes... well it becomes a website. And what is a website? It's an image on an LCD screen. At its core it becomes black text on a blue background and what is the appeal of that...
I'm not addicted to anything when I'm tired. I'm free to whatever because I'm so disconnected from the world around me. My perspective changes on everything. Attachment dissolves and is replaced with a fresh attitude to everything and I realise that I'm sitting in front of a box due to routine... I don't actually care while I'm tired because my brain doesn't give me its all-natural-self-medicated happiness when it wants to switch off for a few hours.
I don't feel like I'm interacting with the world properly anymore. It's like I'm not quite there anymore. I feel things but I feel more inwardly if that makes sense... as if my experience is this insular bubble that is partially cut off from the world and the things around me have to seep in to make a proper impact on me. I'm floating around on different kinds of surfaces that don't matter as long as they're solid.
I have no motivation to do things because they require me to put more effort into them than I'm capable of exerting. I sit and think in fragments, in thoughts that lack words, an abstract drone of sleep deprived thought processes I quickly forget...
When there's no distinct feelings, no strong attachment to the world around me, that's when I feel my own presence. I sit there just sitting and existing.
If I don't sleep for long enough it is like meditation on the self. My mind empties... and all that is left is the fact that I exist.
I really need to sleep.
No comments:
Post a Comment