I stay awake.

Symptomatic diagnosis, they say. I, I take 8 pills at 2130 hrs and yet write this entry at 0140 hrs.  and would probably sleep  by 4 or something.  Therapeutic treatment, they then say. Oh, and that too in November. I’ll tell you the treatment, the 3 day one – ride to Indo-Pak border on Mosey and back.

Oh but my banter must stop. “Its to do with suffering” he said flatly. Why do we all suffer so much, why is there so much of it? Why can’t you stop it? You can build dikes, but it all comes oozing through, and then one day the dike just give way. “Well that sounds a little abstract”. Thats the worst part – there’s nothing to tell. No direct or proximate cause. You just wake up one day and you aren’t a part of your life. You know this. Your life doesn’t belong to you. Your body is not, I don’t know how to make you feel the force of it, yours. There’s just life, living itself. You don’t have it. You don’t have anything to do with it. That’s all. It doesn’t sound like much, but believe me. It’s like when you hypnotize someone and persuade them there is a big pile of mattresses outside their window. They no longer se a reason not to jump.

Dubdub, Solly, Perry ‘Pinch ass’.

The usual sleeplessness. I gotta go take some more pills. By the by, I was watching this movie today and there was a dialogue like – A: What do you do when you can’t sleep? B: I stay awake.

of staying awake, dikes, valium and hypnosis.

Random night rambles. Night.


~ by Shashank Kumar on September 12, 2007.

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