For the Mr. Kites

It is currently almost 3:30 in the morning, and for once, it is not thanks to my friends nor a book nor any type of controlled substance that I am still awake. This time, it is all me.

I don't quite know why or why now my insomnia has returned, only that it is back with a vengeance and despite the fact that I have been yawning for hours, when I close my eyes in anticipation of sweet sweet sleep all I end up doing is thrashing about in my too-hot blanket as I think about how uncomfortable it is that my shirt is riding up. I love to sleep...so why can't I?

My giant white flower. It looks like a huge gardenia! I was told. It was snapped off its branch too long ago, the edges of its petals are turning brown, and I am sad. At 3:33 AM, life seems to be a lot simpler than it usually presents itself. My five bouncy balls, one of each color lined up in the order of the rainbow, make me happy just looking at them. Souvenirs from my adventures today.

I am currently reading A Million Little Pieces by James Frey, and although it is a good book as I read it I can't help but wonder which parts are real and which parts are made up and whether or not that really matters.


Is what happens to us real, or how we perceive it?