Can't Sleep

Tongiht i can't sleep. I had sneaked home at 2:30am, after a very long game of scrabble I tumble into bed at 3:40, not feeling the least bit sleepy though i have been up since 11:30. My predominantly nocturnal lifestyle is somehow compromising with my waking up in the morning, (i'm going to force myself to go to sleep around 5) and somehow manage to wake up at 10:30 (i hope). I toss and turn in my bed, tangling myself up in my bedsheets and messing them up, pulling them from the corners of the bed where a few hours earlier i had just carefully tucked them in. Moonlight filtered in through windows whose curtains had been pulled apart, illuminating the room with a pale ghostly light. The moonlight casts a faint glow on objects in my room, and their silhouettes stand out sharply against the darkness. Glowing red numbers spell out the time, contrasting with the otherwise black and white shades of my room. Images of people, images of time, images of spaces, images of events, memories and more memories flood my mind, breaking the levees i have built. Counting sheep had always been surprisingly effective against sleepless nights but tonight there was no sheep present. Attempts to coax the sheep out were in vain, and i lie there in the tangled mess, stuck in a maze of thoughts from which there is no escape. Thoughts, thoughts. They occupy my mind, spreading to every nook and cranny, filling every available space. Thoughts of the past that binds us, thoughts of the present that separates us, thoughts of the future that threathens to tear us asunder. Who? Who? It is neither one nor the other, but yet again it is both the one and the other. The confusion adds to the hazy mix, piling and piling on top of each other, voices adding on voices layering on voices on more voices, rising and rising in a tumultous crescendo... Its 4:30, and i finally give up. I step out of the bed, disoriented. The moonlight still bathes the room in a pale glow, though the lightening of the pre-dawn sky changes the shade slightly. I make my way down, careful not to rouse my mom. Footsteps and the creaking of the floorboards mimic the rhythmic ticking of the clock in my living room. The hum of the computer blends with the hum of the refrigerator, and i can't tell them apart. Soon morning will come, and my vigil will end and the demons of the night will flee with the dawn, and i'll step into the shower, making my own preparations for the day ahead of me, and all thoughts of this night will be forgotten.