Poets over the time have romanticised sleeplessness with so many emotions that a lot of literature has focussed on the unrequited love and lovers’ dilemma
A simple, realistic life scenario doesn’t sit well with the fantasy world of fiction writers. Am I being scornful? Maybe.
Or maybe I’m just irked at the fact that it’s already 4:36 am at the time of writing this particular line and I am far from sleepy. What injustice is this?
Aren’t the eyes tired of staring at the world, spewing enough hatred around that they want to claim the darkness too?
Urgh. It’s frustrating. I wish I could sleep soundly and wake up fresh for once, without a headache.
Count sheep they said, fool your mind they said. Nothing works for the stressed mind for its filled with stuff even I don’t understand.
The post was supposed to be in third person but I’m used to adding I everywhere.
Yes I am experiencing lack of sleep and I blame all of you.
Starry nights, I see stars from this part of the world. Tiny ones, flickering in the distance. But where I come from, it’s a dull haze, all day every day. People have forgotten what stars look like
Looking for stars there is like squinting your eyes at the TV without glasses. Lol. Guilty.
Hence, here I am … Not sleeping. Hating on the world for ruining the mood, for fantasising sorrow into the star-studded nights of the Middle East.