Im not going to die from it, directly, at least. Indirectly, of course, insomnia is fatal. Smelling flowers could kill you, indirectly.
So past blog entries considered and revisited, im having problems. Life sucks, most aspects of it included. And those unaffected parts of my life are not safe. My weight has been good -it's not like i'm watching it, but i am eating less. Smoking has been regular, controlled, but starting to get out of hand. Hygiene has always been so-so, but im starting to forget to remove my contact lenses. Big, relevant problems, i know; the slum parts of the metro experience these with too. We might have the same problems. That is nice to know.
But what could a boy do? What should i do? Problems are supposed to be hard, and i just need to be smart enough to survive. But i am not, so i shall find a compromise.
Here, im writing, having a small discourse inside my head, trying to organize thoughts as they are put to print, waiting for the thinking cogs to shut off before 5AM.
Is this productive?
I have no idea, but i am sure that this is safe.
I just need a safe form of escape from the storm-ridden minefield that is my head -i need to get out of my head before, well, i start to pull my hair out and roll my eyes way up into my skull. And probably scratch my ears off.
Insanity is frightening, isnt it?
Life needs dealing with, and i am waiting for the sleep to help me get on with the dealing. Life minus sleep is a bitch and a bitch aka an easily irritable gentleman doesnt need a bitch of a life unless he wants hell, which would be unthinkable.
So i have started to pass a few yawns throughout this piece. Sleep might come now. And life, as i know it, might be fended off to be dealt with in another day, or week.