3:13

I can't sleep. I've found myself staring at my alarm clock in a cold fury. As I gaze upon the green numbers, they often say something ridiculous and unnerving. 4:03, 3:46, 4:23 but not in that particular order. Wait. That has actually happened but that's another story for another time.

As of late, I've been having a hard time sleeping. Thanks to this, I have a lot of time with my thoughts. Alone. This is not always a fun experience because it fills me with anger and worry at being unable to sleep. That anger fuels violent thoughts and leads me further down the Dark Side of the Force. Yoda would weep for me. I mean- Me Yoda would for weep hrrm?

Of course, these violent thoughts probably have more to do with the fact that I'm more annoyed at being unable to sleep not because I'm a violent person at heart; I'm actually quite jolly and well-tempered. Until something gets to me so greatly that I reach my breaking point and lash out. As is the same with everyone.

It's bewildering how during the time I'm supposed to be calm and at peace, I'm furious. Well, not entirely bewildering; I understand my frustrations. Seething at those green numbers lighting up the darkness. Not even the whole darkness, just a small portion of it. As annoying as a fly buzzing around, swat it away, it comes back. This probably explains why I can't hit the off button on the alarm whenever I wake up as the damn thing is under my desk or something. I probably shoved the damn thing off the desk or it had enough of my frustration and did both of us a fav- No, that's ridiculous. Of course I shoved it out of the way.

Truly, a violent person of some sort lurks inside. Or one that's annoyed.

And all because I can't sleep, or sleep as long as I should.

This will come to pass. At least, I hope it does. I hate having insomnia. Not necessarily because it's the lack of sleep but because I've come to rely heavily upon the fragments of dreams that I remember. Not to the extent that a junkie would steal a car for a quick fix but because these dreams that I've been having have come to represent some shred of hope for myself that I didn't know I had anymore. My dreams (or the fragments that I remember) have become vivid, colorful, moving and powerful. To me anyway. Not enough to make me wake up in tears but enough to keep me quiet for a few moments as I try to think about what I just experienced. Whether it's making love to a beautiful woman, or walking through the hall of the mountain king, walking down the street dwarfed by enormous towers and buildings of glass and steel draped in colors of all sorts under a sun that isn't round but more cube shaped and has a very slight but noticeable blue hue, these are the things that have come to bring me some sort of peace and inspiration and ultimately some sort of hope.

To be robbed of these things is fucking unforgivable.

But I know I'm not alone. Everyone gets mad with a lack of sleep. We call them "grumpy" but I don't really have a term I use for people who are annoyed because they haven't slept.

In either case, I hope I can get more sleep and dream more.

That way, I'm guaranteed to be more of a pleasant person.

If you're wondering about the title, run a Google search for The King of Time.