Impulse Reality 194

eZine lover (@eZine)

Published in 

Impulse Reality

 · 5 years ago

  

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        .d""b.                impulse reality press no. 194 
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     $$ $$                       "Insomnia, My Suicide." 
     $$ $$                          written by linear 
     $$ $$                          released 5/27/02 
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	My plan was to force myself into insomnia. All my favorite anti- 
heroes possessed disabilities, and I was jealous. Insomnia sounded good.  

	Complete lack of sleep would help me in every aspect of my life. I  
was a good 40 pounds underweight. If I stayed awake, I could eat more.  
Insomnia would be my weight gain formula. Creatively, I was running dry. If  
I didn't sleep, I'd have more time to write, along with very surreal and  
abstract thoughts as a result of existing in a constantly awaken haze.  
Insomnia would be my aesthetic. I was depressed. Most people sleep a lot 
when they're depressed. They wake up, they find they're depressed, they go  
back to sleep to forget their problems. Their problems don't go away. There  
they are again when they wake up. I figured if I failed to sleep for a few  
nights, I would get all my thoughts out, and by purging my thoughts, I would 
drain away all depression. Insomnia would be my Prozac. 

	In a sense, I would be driving myself to insanity. Intentionally. I  
figured it would be a good experience for me. All this would be accomplished. 
I'd be free. And all without the aid of any drugs. Neat. I wanted to be 
insane, but only temporarily. Once the novelty of instability wore off, I  
could always just go back to sleep. Everything would be better. 

	Insomnia would be my suicide. If only temporary. 

	It was a brilliant plan, and no one appreciated it. Only I saw the  
beauty. Life's like that sometimes, I suppose. I smiled to myself as I  
acknowledged the fact that this was the beginning of my self-induced  
destruction. Hooray. 

	So, basically, what happened was I fell asleep. 

 
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