insomnia continued

There’s always that feeling, eventually, that feeling of sinking (before sleep jumbled up non-consciousness), gently melting down, forgetting, when it finally comes, sinking and floating blurring together. But: I get all anxious anticipating that feeling, jittery for its sensation, and I play tricks on myself, imagining that it’s happening, its consummation through my body, sending me right through my sheets and mattress and sticky wooden floor. Pretending: Oh, yes, here we go! and here again! off we go - off to sleep oh boy it makes me sick. Just tricks, foolishness, making everything even worse, these neck muscles think they’re doing fucking pull-ups. When you’re tense it does not come. When you shake it does not come. Wait, am I shaking? What would somebody think if they watched that look I get in my eyes during insomnia? Probably try to take a picture. Yes, it’s all my neck holding me above the hewn-hewn material I must wrap myself in, all the dyes and chemicals that now seep through porous skin and run the follicles and leak. Perhaps tomorrow night I’ll sleep wrapped up in plastic! Just me and my sweat. Then an observer would really think I had gone fucking mad, and the sweat would be held against me instead of whisked away, half evaporating and half clinging.