The Kinds of Stories I Like

Eyes spring open and it's like I've had a full night's sleep. I check the time: 2:49. Vibrate.

u up?

I am flat on my back, the window open, no breeze, no coolness save the sheets. Vibrate.

u up?

If I'd been quizzed I'd have said 3:30. 3:02. The air is thick and time moves slowly through it. I watch some show, my eyes can't focus yet I'm not tired.

hey

I pick up my book. Some sad man trying to out his family back together. Will everything be all right in the end? I hope not. Those are the kinds of stories I like. Where things don't work out. Things are always working out and it gets old after a while.

come over..

4:10 and I've gone through ten or so pages, which I will end up re-reading. Some sort of snack. Glass of warm milk maybe? I move to the couch. I set my phone next to me, but I don't know why I brought it, but I do. I left the ceiling fan on again.

u up?

I stare at the wall, try to free my mind. Every task, every checkpoint, I push them all aside, they rear their heads and I say no. I don't want to focus on anything, I don't even want to focus on myself. There is nothing but this wall. This wall and sleep.

Soon birds. Newspapers. The pre-rush hour-ers. I've at least closed my eyes. I am not happy, but I've done what recharging I can. Still feels like yesterday. I pick up my phone.

Yeah. Why?