Yeah, I think that sleep is overrated. You sleep for 8 hours and 1/3 of your life is gone. Just vanished. Just because some quack is some hospital did some study that causes him/her to think that they know all about the human experience, I mean even Huxley wrote about that one, and exactly what is good for whom.
Arrogant pricks, I know I need the sleep, I don't want to sleep. I have so much shit to take care of that I could sell off my sleep to black market dealers in Istanbul, trade the cash for a bitchin pair of shades to hide the circles and accept that I will be hallucinating for the next five days. Or, I can be like Franklin's "Poor Richard". Early to bed and all that...
See, there's this color of blue that penetrates into every nook and cranny of the world around 4:15 A.M., during summer months, which causes the cold to recede the the lock in your jaw to slack out. The heat of the coffee finally creeps past your fingers and into your arms, easing out the cramps in your neck and shoulders, that you know the shower at home will finish off.
One long hectic night of pushing past the barriers of mental fatigue and physical "requirement" to produce a dreadful state of emotional stunt. I can't feel, just respond. What do I need here? Where is this movement going? How do I find the inspiration?
Just stay up, watch the world pass through the veil of sleep and know that your hours are sacrifice to allow your dreams to pour into this world. Nice, huh? Manifestation of desire and you didn't have to make the bed.
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