4:59am...

Glancing at the clock, I stumble at the notion that I should be entirely in bed by now. However, I'm not. I'm finding myself sitting here at the dining table underneath what appears to be the loneliest set of illuminated lighting to be found in the entire apartment at the moment. And here is me sitting alone only to be a compliment to the atmosphere of this early morning restlessness . Daring to take a second glance, it finally jumps at me that it's 4:59am and that I am coming to grips of becoming fully aware that I am a part-time insomniac.

By definition, an insomniac is someone who is characterized by persistent difficulties in falling asleep or staying asleep despite the opportunity that is granted to them. For the most part, it is also typically followed by functional impairment while they are awake. Well, for me, I consider myself only part-time in this sleeping disorder because it's not persistent so to speak. I do have nights where I am sleeping perfectly normal without any obstructions affecting me. And it's also only sometimes that I'm awake and struck with realization that I'm functionally impaired.

Perhaps, all of what I just said is just bullshit coming from a part-time insomniac (like me) who really just doesn't want to go to bed, but rather has some internal revelry in spending endless odd hours attempting to defy sleep and squeeze in as much more hour in a day than it is naturally possible. Or maybe I have other intentions.

Well, since I am conveniently up (as oppose to being in bed), I clearly think I will go for a morning jog to make myself sweat, ...to make myself tired, ...to make myself lose some of this energy that's keeping myself awake,...to make myself become cold in order to yearn for the comforts of a warm bed,...and to figure out everything else that I need to make out of myself...

...at 5:28am.

Fuck. it's 5:29am now.