|
|
|
|
     |
I'm going to go fucking nuts... This is being written at around 9:30 AM on the 5th of September, a Friday. What am I doing up at such an ungodly hour you ask? That's an instructive story in itself...let me clarify. Last night, I think to myself after having so many things to suddenly think and worry about, that I should try to sleep a bit earlier than usual...you know, let my brain rest up after all the hard facts of life that I had been hit with. So instead of forcing my eyes and my body to stay up...I let myself sleep at a little past 3 in the morning. I spent maybe half an hour...just lying there in the dark thinking about whatever came into my troubled mind, unable to sleep...the darkness is conducive for such a thing really, because in the dark, I can almost see the things I'm thinking about playing out before me on the shadowed walls and ceilings. At a certain point, I thought to myself, 'stop worrying and just get to sleep...thinking about these things now won't change anything...' and surprisingly, my body agreed and the darkness gathered me up as I slowly began to slip off to sleep...and that's when it happened. Fucking neighbour's dog...starts barking and yapping it's shrill fucking head off...at THREE IN THE FUCKING MORNING!! Does that mutt have the decency to continuously bark? Do it's owners have the decency to shut it up? No and no. Dog would bark for five minutes straight, waking me up. It stops then, I start to fall asleep again and ten minutes later, it starts up yet again. This became a pattern for about an hour. It would bark, I would wake up, it would stop, I would sleep, it would bark and so on and so on and so on... This went on for about an hour so for those of you keeping count, it's now about 4:30 in the morning and I was more tired then, than if I had just stayed up until then. Half sleeping, waking, half sleeping, waking is a lot more tiring than just staying up straight and my god, I was going fucking nuts. It got so bad to a point where whenever I closed my eyes, I could VIVIDLY picture myself hopping off my deck, getting to that dog, picking it up by it's shrill yapping head and just swinging it around in a circle and bashing the fucking thing against the ground, the house, a tree, something, ANYTHING to just STOP it. Of course, these visions entertained me when my eyes were closed. Whenever they were open, it was back to worrying about everything else to a point where I felt that I had to fucking scream or lose control of my sanity entirely. Deciding that I couldn't put up with it anymore, I get up, it's now around ten to five in the morning and I start to blearily play games. My logic? If I'm going to be up anyways, I might as well distract my mind from thinking of the things that were worrying me from last night right? And as a plus, I could drown out the fucking dog with music from my games. Does the mutt have the decency to be consistant? No, no and a thousand times no. I'm playing for half an hour, half asleep the whole time when it occurs to me that I haven't heard the dog at all during this time. I turn off my sound and just listen for a while...it had stopped. At last. I turn off my game, settle into bed. The thoughts came back for a few minutes, but by then, I was too tired to pay them much heed and I once again, for what seemed like the millionth time, began to fall asleep... ... Bark...bark...bark...bark...yap...bark...bark...yap... ... I wake up again...in a sudden burst of frustration, I punch my wall...and hard...before I just sit up and brood. You know...it's when I have too much time to think, like this, that I get the most depressed...the happy things simply don't occur to me. Ideas and thoughts that seem completely unfounded and retarded by the light of day seem like...the only things that can happen by night you know? I spent a good part of last night dealing with my irrational fear that all my friends would leave me behind in their lives...leave me alone. And sure, that seems ridiculous, and just, like...common fears that a lot of people have right? But is it really? Even now...I can't say that I'm close to any of the guys that I used to chill with in my last year of high school, Carol...well, things seem rather iffy again...so out of all the people that I talked to in my last year of school, the only person I still talk to on a regular basis would be Juliette, but even that...everytime I call these days...I feel that I'm ...intruding? Like...forcing myself into her life and that's never a good thing to think about or to feel... So enough with that depressed ramble...back to the issue at hand. Around 6:30 in the morning, the dog's barking stops again, and I hear someone taking him in. THANK FUCKING GOD. I can still hear it barking, sort of muffled now, but it's at a manageable level. I lie down to sleep at last... Fifteen minutes later...the phone rings...at 6:45 IN THE FuCKING MORNING!!! Who the FUCK calls that early huh? LIke, seriously, what the fuck? So I pick it up...why? I have no fucking clue. For one thing, phone is next to my head, it's ringing is piercing and shrill. I can't ignore it. For another, I know that my mom is sleeping...so I might as well be the one to wake up considering that I haven't slept long anyways, and for a last thing, I thought it would be you Juliette...why? I don't know. Half asleep, muddled logic I guess. Besides, you have the dubious honor of being the first person I know to call for me that late at night ^.^ and when you read this...IF you read this, before you ask or say anything, know that it was okay, after all, it wasn't like I was sleeping right...? So, back to the phone, here's the conversation (which by the way, her side has been translated from korean): Me (sleepy voice): Hello...? Aunt: Oh Perry? It's your aunt...can I talk to your mother? Me: Hang on, I'll go wake her up... Aunt: Oh, she's sleeping then? Then don't wake her up, she should sleep more. Me: ... Aunt: Oh, you were probably sleeping too right? Then nevermind, I'll just call back later, you should sleep more too. Me: *twitch twitch* Mom from downstairs: Who is it...? Me (Growling): It's...aunt... Mom: Oh, okay, I'll get it... (Mom picks up phone downstairs) Aunt: Oh hi! Okay, bye Perry~! Me: ... (Hangs up) That went well didn't it? I got sort of smart too, rather than get myself woken up by the noise my mom makes as she got ready for work around 7 in the morning, I just lay there in my bed staring with sorrow at the now very bright day outside but eventually, she was finished and left. It's now fairly bright, and my room is slowly starting to heat up but fuck all that, I felt like I could sleep through anything at that point. Then it happened...I could hear it. The sound of the neighbours fucking lawnmower. Well, I think to myself, at least this won't last too long right? And I should be thankful that they have no laundry to put up and talk to each other about across our yard right? Fifteen minutes later, he's done mowing his lawn, and he goes inside. Once again, for the last time I swear to myself, and close my eyes... Two minutes later, the faint sound of a screen door opening is heard and after a brief pause... ...bark...bark...bark...yap...yap...bark...yap...bark...bark... I shout to myself, literally shout to myself, out loud and at the top of my lungs, "GOD FUCKING DAMNIT!!!!" Sleeping is now officialy off my list of things to do for fear of literally going fucking crazy. My room is heating up, the sun is out, and now it's impossible for me to sleep. I take a fairly warm shower for me and for some reason now, as I type this up, my hands and my feet feel ice cold. They're not even this cold in the middle of winter... I feel awake now, full of anger and as a result, I'm blasting my music fucking loud in the hopes that it will wake SOMEONE up but I doubt it. My area is filled with fucked up, old white folks and they don't keep strange hours. So all told? I think I got around an hour and half of seriously broken sleep last night, but it feels like a LOT less than that. So the day goes on...my sister comes back from London today for a visit and David's going to come by a bit later too. Sleep is out of the question for today and as for tonight...I can only dream. And on a final note, if that motherfucking fleabitten bag of fur and shit starts up again tonight, I swear to GOD that I will hunt that fucking dog down and rip it's shrill yapping head right off it's dimunitive body and throw it through the window of it's own fucking house and may god help anyone who gets in my fucking way... Sigh...all this new worrying...this new lack of sleep, it's left me feeling sorta shaky and seriously depressed...God, I feel so fucked up right now it's not even funny anymore... |