I'll admit it. The only reason I am choosing to post this uselessness at 56 minutes past when I should be asleep is because I am in love with the click of my rapid typing on this laptop keyboard. It's addictive, compelling, and vaguely sexy, in an illicit-office-romance kind of way.
Apparently I will go to great lengths to justify aforementioned uselessness.
There comes a point sometime between midnight and four when sleep seems too far gone to be of any benefit; in fact, the effort of preparing for and attempting sleep seems to far outweigh the minimal value scraped from its skin. In junior high, my oblong hardcover journal and a whispering radio pulled me through restless, heavily still spring nights. And now, on the eve of spring, I stubbornly (narcissistically? masochistically?) deny sleep again.
Or perhaps, am denied by.
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2 comments:
Should blogging be so erotic?
Scraped from its skin... pulled through spring nights... Nice wordplay.
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