Actually, it’s one thirty am now. I am listening to the husky low voice of Damien Rice, wondering the oft wondered question – why does sleep elude me? I need sleep. Desperately. Because my scheduled activity was reading Shakespeare. And “I do now let loose my opinion, I can read thee no longer”.

“What I am to you, is not real”, Mr Rice is crooning sexily, his voice filling my room, yet it’s not enough to keep me distracted. Even the otherwise soothing sound of the violin fails to transport me into the familiar daze that would have otherwise helped me disconnect from reality. Not today. And yet I need them in my background. Here is why music is like oxygen to some of us – because even though we might not thank the trees for every breath we take (is it weird that I just remembered that lovely stalker song by police?), oh well, I don’t even know what I wanted to say or how I was intending to finish this silly sentence. Damn you The Police. I am easily distracted after all.

Damien dear has progressed to crooning “so why do you fill my sorrow with the words you’ve borrowed.From the only place you’ve known. And why do you sing Hallelujah”, I have no idea what he is trying to say. I like him anyway. Here is what I am really trying to do – I am just trying to not dwell into deeper existential questions but am concentrating writing about superficial, ridiculous things. When you want to sleep and cannot, you go to a dark place in your mind and it is not fun.

I could watch a movie, but that would mean engaging my senses with the visual media for at least another 90 minutes, I am not sure if I want that. Also research suggests that one should not watch television/movies just before sleeping, it makes it difficult for the mind to gain the peace required to go into temporary oblivion for the night. So no, no movie, I am not sabotaging my chances of gaining sleep.

Right now, I am wondering if I should add pictures to this post, to make it less tedious and seem interesting to an unsuspecting reader. If I should look at wikimedia commons. They have a very depressing collection of pictures by the way. I mean, most of their stock stuff is ancient and there is little choice. So, no wikimedia.

I wish my house was close to the woods. I have already written two poems, professing my love for the woods. And yes, Robert Frost’s immortal words are already bursting in my head. Oh how I miss the woods. If I were among those sweet whispering trees, I am sure sweet sleep would have found its way to my senses. Anyway, I will leave you with those hauntingly beautiful lines and a ghostly picture of me.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep”
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