Thoughts

It's 2am, I have a final in five hours and I can't sleep. I'm not worried about the final, really, I just can't sleep. I had to get out of bed to get this pen and paper because I think it's better to write than just lie here. I know you're sitting there reading white on blue, but join me here for a minute. Later I will re-read these words, maybe change one here or there and then put it on my blog... but that's all the future.

It's dim in the room, but not exactly dark. The light over the sink mirror is on. My roomate has his lamp on too. I think he's studying physics. We hung surround sound recently; the boxes stick off the walls at funny angles. The covers are a bit warm tonight. My legs are sticky when I move them around.

I don't lie awake and think as much as I should... distract myself with mindless games or mindless text on the internet solely to kill time. Or I actually work on school stuffs until I'm exhausted and fall asleep. Work until you're exhausted so you can work the next day until you're exhausted again all towards some goal you don't recognize because you don't lie awake and think at night. Do I need a college degree to feel validated? I don't have much else to do really... I think the degree probably misses the point. Keep learning. I enjoy that enough. I wonder what I'll do with the remainder. The part of my life that doesn't divide evenly.

I'm writing this in red pen on a 2"x4" memo pad. The pad is a suggestion from an English teacher for ideas. The pen because I was late for class without a writing instrument. It cost me $5 at the general store. Red ink is correction: it is that of a teacher. I could teach, but I wouldn't be satisfied with one subject. I think I would enjoy teaching high school later in life. But until then? I don't know. Cooking and writing could be fun. Neither needs a degree.

I'm not lonely. This surprises me because so very many people are. I can name the people who will possibly read this on one hand. Matt, Will, Megan, Melody and an interesting person who I know only as Kitten. It was weird discovering I had a follower of this blog. I suppose I shouldn't rule out Shuri. Six fingered hand. Important hand. I'm not lonely. Society tells me I should be, my brain tells me I should be. Sweet twenty and never been kissed. My heart must be waiting or otherwise starved. I doubt the later. Why am I so content?

Kicking the covers aside and letting the wind wisk away the sweat from my legs feels refreshing. I wonder if I'll dream tonight; I'm amazed at the power of intent alone. I've remembered dreams for the past week simply by telling myself to.

I'm going to try to sleep again; almost half an hour has passed. Someday, tell me what you think of while you life awake at night.