The brightest light is shining through hand sewn curtains coming from a street-light that stares me down while I try to sleep. The little red dot on my TV stares me down as insomnia carries my weightless body back to the thoughts of yesterday. My thoughts are pointless at 2 a.m. worrying about what I'll wear or what people will think of it. The walls hold me in a cage of senseless perception as I try to escape to my far-off land of dreams. The monsters under my bed and the ones in my closet snicker and giggle at my brain that is fearing if I'll ever drift into sleep. What I've realized is that the monsters under my bed are not there, but in my head.
I've been listening to a lot of the '50s lately. Digging it.