m o o d s :: i n s o m n i a



from The Spirit Leaves the Body, 1968 by Duane Michals

Sleep is hard. Insomnia comes at night and suddenly I’m staring at the ceiling, willing myself not to look at the clock. The stars outside are beautiful, or would be we weren’t all drowning in light pollution. No matter, there are ocean waves and rainstorms on my headphones. If I can’t sleep, at least I can listen to the sound of my own breathing until the sun’s rays light up the bedroom walls.

Tonight. There’ll be another chance to sleep tonight.


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