And it rains.

 

I sit outside smoking the last cigarette in my pack, and watch my car's tires disappear in the ever-growing pool of water it's parked in. I think of Noah's flood. I think of tropical storms. I think of forests that smell like moss and pine needles. It's well past sunset, but the sky burns a purple-red. Soon after, the sky confuses itself by lighting up, flashing like a fluoresent light switched on in the dark of night. I finish the rest of the champagne and undress, excited about the prospect of being lulled to sleep by the heavy downpour.

 

Expectation vs realisation, my friend.

 

No sleep. I chang from a sheet to a duvet to this wonderfully soft loosely woven blanket. Still no sleep. I take a shower. No sleep. I make some green tea. Nothing. Listen to the rain. Get irritated with my cat for sleeping, the bastard. Wake him up, he looks at me and falls asleep again. Read a few chapters. No sleep. Extreme tiredness, and a mind so clean and clear a buddhist would envy me. Three steps away from eternal bliss, and it's on tea break. Clip my nails. Do breathing excersises. Watch the rain. Scheme "milk contains a chemical that induces sleep, let me have some yoghurt". Love yoghurt. So does my cat. Become irritated with the rain. Become irritated with an outisde light. Become irritated with wakefulness. Read some more.

I was so looking forward to sleep. Next time, I'll embrace my insomnia and sweep the floor or study some katakana.