Sleep

Another shitty night of insomnia-driven self-reflection. Now I'm tired and depressed....I think I should make an effort to like pills a little more, but that just raises more issues of what I should be relying on, if anything. I passed the wee hours reading accounts of highly depressive people's suicide attempts on the internet--I was bored and really, it was either that or read all about celebrity eating disorders/drug abuse. I swear, it was a tough decision (I'm sure), but if I get to the point where I'm tired enough to start plastering celebrity-type images on my fridge, I think I'd rather just take the fucking sleep pill and pass out for a solid 8 hours. At least, if my mind starts giving me (what now appear to be expected) awful thoughts, said thoughts will be restrained within the confines of sleep and muscle relaxant (you know, to prevent any incidences of murder by somnabulism). It's a nice thought, actually. Sleep could provide me with (the apparently more) constructive habits, like regular dreaming, which would maybe (?--or am I just romanticizing the concept of dream--I should re-read Casteneda) help me not feel so fucking cynical and repulsed. I feel too young to be so bitter and it just isn't cool anymore.

Knowing me though, I'd probably have another nightmare.

I think I want to drink a bit tonight.