When you don’t sleep, things become strange. Ephemeral. Everything bends and dislocates itself away from your immediate understanding; you are left looking through a window at the light of the universe as it shines down on everyone else. I call this my dream state. Here, you define the chaos of you; the universe, by small decisions.
Have you ever sifted sand through a screen?
In my dream state, I sift the experience of being alive. I am the filter through which possibility is defined; each step observed and carefully cataloged with dangerously precise prescience. Merely by sitting and trying to focus on the end of the bed, I enter an infinite spectrum. Everything expands, until holding it back is all that I can do.
When you don’t sleep… you find out that your place in reality is to define reality. You are the window through which the light of the universe pours. You sift chaos into history.
I can’t sleep. I cannot sleep.
