Reported Missing On Accounts Of Audaciously Sleeping.

Today has just started, as far as I'm concerned, and it got off to quite an edgy start. You see, apparently, I'm such a hardcore insomniac that when I actually fell asleep, people thought I was dead.

 

 

I woke up midway into the body search that was orchestrated by a caring soul a continent away. When it comes to social and cellphone networks, those were covered, and I believe if I'd woken up a couple of hours later, I would have found people in the apartment checking my pulse. I won’t be lying if I said that every insomniac cell in me felt so guilty that they curled up into a snowball and rolled down to crush me on the greatest guilt trip I’ve felt since my touch phone accidentally dialed my mother 71 times having her inevitably think that I was kidnapped and was subliminally trying to SOS.

 

Mistake me not, I’m incredibly touched by the efforts. It just strikes me as rather sad that the whole ‘maybe she’s sleeping’ option wasn’t, after all, an option. A friend suggests that I may want to consider sleeping more often just to get people used to the practice fire drills. Well, I guess if you walk around butt naked, you’ll get owned by anyone who wears pants.

 

I have an interesting life, no doubt about that.

 

You know what else I think is interesting? When they asked astrophysicist Adam Riess how it felt like to win the Nobel prize, he said ‘Well, you get called by Swedish sounding people, and unless you ordered some furniture from IKEA then it pretty much means you’ve won the Nobel prize.’

 

I’ve come into the recent conclusion that most things in life are interchangeable, like for instance you can do away with all the meditation tapes if you tune in to late night radio stations halfway across the universe quipping their way out of creativity’s possible reach, and how pizza delivery boys do a better job than most suicide hotlines, you know, just until the middle east comes out of the dark cave into the light ages and actually offer that service, and last but not least, who the hell needs to call coffee coffee when you can call it java? I mean come on, ‘IIIIIIIT’S JAVA MAAN! SWOOSHING IN ONCE MORE TO SAVE THE DAY!’, ‘Aw man, I’m running low on java.’, ‘Hello there sweet cheeks, want a java refill?’ Java infuses action, in all its contexts, into everything! Can you see the possibilities?

 

I got lost again today. I took the wrong bus home, except this time I knew it was the wrong bus before I got on it but it still sounded like a good idea to get anywhere populated and then worry about whether the populated area is right or not. The bus drivers helped, as usual, and it occurred to me that, considering my rate, they’ve sort of illegally adopted me. Chivalry ain’t dead yet. The bus was so heavily decorated that it almost felt like I got a free ride into the haunted house, and coincidentally, the chick fate sat me next to reminded me vaguely of the Christmas spirit, strictly fashion-wise. If anyone gets visited by the ghost of Christmas past, it should vaguely resemble this scenario.

 

I’ve been walking home from all sorts of no-idea-wheres lately, and the walk is always relaxing. I owe the use of this adjective to my, sometimes, inexistent survival instinct, considering the country’s going batshit crazy and what not. Let me put it that way, did you know that 73% of the planet is invisible, and 25% of it is dark matter as well, we don’t know what the hell that is either. We’re kind of the frosting on a cake whose filling is yet to be identified. The comforting part is that we have names for everything. What applies to astrophysics should apply to a parliament-free, judiciary-abandoned, constitution-less country such as this one. My latent canine abilities manage to get me home eventually. I also owe the adjective to the hopeful run-in with a street bookseller who actually reads his own books. Out of all the people I’ve had a random conversation with, that know-it-all hidden from the mainstream society under the pile of dusty outdated books he reads before he sells, was without doubt the most touching. It is true that hope comes in all forms.