Now I lay me down not to sleep
I just get tangled in the sheets
I swim in sweat three inches deep
I just lay back and claim defeat
There's so much joy in life,
so many pleasures all around
But the pleasure of insomnia
is one I've never found
With all life has to offer,
there's so much to be enjoyed
But the pleasures of insomnia
are ones I can't avoid
My hands are locked up tight in fists
My mind is racing, filled with lists
of things to do and things I've done
Another sleepless night's begun
Lids down, I count sheep
I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is
that I won't sleep
I countdown, I look around
Who needs sleep?
well you're never gonna get it
Who needs sleep?
tell me what's that for
Who needs sleep?
be happy with what you're getting
There's a guy who's been awake
since the Second World War
-Abridged version, Who Needs Sleep by Barenaked Ladies
I'm going to need some sort of sleep aid for a few days at least, I'm thinking. I sleep, certainly. I get tired, I fall asleep, but I've had trouble getting restful, comfortable, deep sleep since I got home again. I toss and turn, my mind spinning a mile a minute even when I'm solid in sleep. I wake up with snatches of whizzing worldliness in my head, but no sign of true dreams.
I wake up feeling like I spent the night thinking about too much, like my head is full of things I haven't processed, full of too many ideas and wonders and thoughts and plans and castles. No real dreams, just snatches of probability, possibility. Nothing with form or cohesion, no coherence. Flickering bits of film, replaying moments that may or may not have happened, or are yet to happen.
I did not sleep well. Perhaps some decompression time is all I need, time to relax back into my ordinary life and the comforts of a scheduled reality. And some more forced sleep, courtesy of my friendly herbal valerian supplements and a hot cup of tea before bed.
I just get tangled in the sheets
I swim in sweat three inches deep
I just lay back and claim defeat
There's so much joy in life,
so many pleasures all around
But the pleasure of insomnia
is one I've never found
With all life has to offer,
there's so much to be enjoyed
But the pleasures of insomnia
are ones I can't avoid
My hands are locked up tight in fists
My mind is racing, filled with lists
of things to do and things I've done
Another sleepless night's begun
Lids down, I count sheep
I count heartbeats
The only thing that counts is
that I won't sleep
I countdown, I look around
Who needs sleep?
well you're never gonna get it
Who needs sleep?
tell me what's that for
Who needs sleep?
be happy with what you're getting
There's a guy who's been awake
since the Second World War
-Abridged version, Who Needs Sleep by Barenaked Ladies
I'm going to need some sort of sleep aid for a few days at least, I'm thinking. I sleep, certainly. I get tired, I fall asleep, but I've had trouble getting restful, comfortable, deep sleep since I got home again. I toss and turn, my mind spinning a mile a minute even when I'm solid in sleep. I wake up with snatches of whizzing worldliness in my head, but no sign of true dreams.
I wake up feeling like I spent the night thinking about too much, like my head is full of things I haven't processed, full of too many ideas and wonders and thoughts and plans and castles. No real dreams, just snatches of probability, possibility. Nothing with form or cohesion, no coherence. Flickering bits of film, replaying moments that may or may not have happened, or are yet to happen.
I did not sleep well. Perhaps some decompression time is all I need, time to relax back into my ordinary life and the comforts of a scheduled reality. And some more forced sleep, courtesy of my friendly herbal valerian supplements and a hot cup of tea before bed.
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