It’s past four A.M. and I feel exhausted, or at least I tell myself that. I clutch my pillows more tightly as if to say “yes, this is it. I am going to sleep now. See?” But no amount of telling myself that I’m going to sleep ever works, not as long as I can hear myself think. That’s why I almost always listen to podcasts when I go to bed. Other peoples’ voices aren’t exactly soothing, but in listening to them while tired I find myself slowly and surely loosing the ability to follow what is being said as I lapse into sleep.
This is what happens when I don’t drown out the voices in my head: I tell myself that I should buy bug spray because – oh my god – what if there’s a cockroach in the room? I think, what the hell am I doing thinking about bugs and getting all itchy? I try very, very hard to wipe those thoughts away. In the effort to replace the thought with something precious like nostalgia I am then struck with a deep sadness. I was thinking about my old Nintendo 64 and how much I loved it as a kid – only to then remember that while I was in High School I decided it would be interesting to case-mod an N64 and took apart one of my most beloved childhood memories. The disassembled Nintendo 64 now sits collecting dust while a friend’s N64 sits in it’s old place. I tell myself that it’s okay, I can just buy a used N64 online. Hell, I could buy three or four used N64’s considering how cheap they probably are. But then I started thinking about what-ifs like “what if one day I go to buy new controllers, or an old game, and I can’t find them anymore? What if the things I want later are disappearing now?”
Some nights these malignant thoughts frustrate me to the point where I think to deny them the opportunity to disrupt my sleep. If I just don’t sleep, there’s no way I’d run into this problem, right? It’s no wonder I wake up 90% of the time with an iPod uncomfortably lodged between bed and chest, and the faint sound of voices coming from headphones scattered among the sleep.