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  • Insomnia is an insidious thing. It creeps up on you, and by the time you realize it's going to be sticking around for a while it's too late for sleeping pills. Too late for drowsiness.

    It's like your mind suddenly shifts into a higher gear and starts clicking away incessantly, tick-tick-tick with the thoughts and the worries and the fragments of the day. The tiredness is there in the background, like a wallflower at the high school dance, wishing with all his/her might that he/she could steal the show, but paralyzed by hierarchy.

    Insomnia is like a brash teenager - at once full of insecurities and bravado. A loud yell that you just want to send to its room. Go to sleep, you think. You wish. You want. You need.

    Last night was my umpteenth bout of insomnia, a quiet evening turning into a frantic cycling of thoughts. I watched TV, read, meditated, but it was no use.

    4AM claimed me, and I remembered as exhaustion took over that I would need to be up and lucid the next morning. I remember toying with the idea of not waking up on time for work. Calling in "sick", because it's like an illness, right? It's something you want to cure. A cure.

    I am up now.
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