I forgot to mention earlier, I woke a few days ago to a wonderful message. A friend and reader, grateful for my words and images, encouraging my strength in the face of my melancholy. I just want to thank my friend, before leaping into another note (written into my phone while M slept beside me) made on a weekend trip, over three weeks ago, to the city of Wroclaw.
Here it is.
4.09 - nausea - headache.
I can't sleep since 1, before that 12-1. Tomorrow may be difficult.
When we're young children staying up all night is some great endurance test, some massive feat.
When I was 18 I thought I'd need to sit up all night, thinking, that I might know myself in some true way.
Beyond good and evil on the bedside.
Solitude and Solipsism, chicken and egg.
An experiment I conducted in my parental home, a school night with a little codeine.
Touch too much.
It started well. Much thought, drawing, music, existential theses- external.
At around 3.40, I had decided time to quit my game. Not feeling I knew me any deeper I questioned whether or not this giving in was some Psychodynamic defense mechanism; was my unconscious reluctant to reflect for me, reveal?
Assured I'd be deeply traumatized by the extent of my own evil? Leading to our ending us both?
I couldn't quit any longer it seemed.
No further illumination try as we might - despite much rumination and toil that early-morned night.
At 5.30 I readied myself for Uni. Foundation of course.
By the light of our tele-vision.
Coffee for an unaccustomed consumer.
7.16 bus. Crit today. Doom. Long and wrong night for self-soul searching.
Migraine and tears
I want to die
My parents are worried
My parents, thank you for being present.
My dad picks me up
Apologies and assurances
More mistaken pills for a future three-year.
Nausea no longer
My Satie playlist has ceased
Have any of you 5 readers any similar searching sleepless scenes to share?
I want you and yours
Engrave our darknesses into our lights.
Don't let's go gentle into that greatnight, rage, rage against the dying of our light.