I hate evenings like that. Evenings in which I feel restless. I have done my homework, paid my rent, taken out the rubbish, had a great laugh with some friends and at the end something’s still wrong. Or missing. I have no idea. The fucking sense of worry is stuck inside me like a full spoon of peanut butter in my throat and not even calling all my family could get it out of there. In my mind I ought to be having a great day, followed by a calm night – today was a real delight. So what the fuck is happening now? I hate the times when I get that feeling.
It happens usually before exams. Or several days before I have my heart broken. I am not suggesting anything, it’s just statistics! And the worst part is, for the exam thing I know beforehand that it is coming. The heartbreaking most often than not comes out of the blue and leaves me shredded into pieces. And this feeling beforehand, this exact same feeling that I have now is my only warning.
None of my friends is online. At least none of the ones I would talk to right now. I called him, he’s not home yet, but I can’t really believe that my subconscious would be so fascinated by the idea of missing him that it would play a joke like that. Fucking restlessness! At least when you are insomniac you know something’s up. For what I know, I’m just nervous and sleepless. One other great feature – the more you struggle with your mind to find what’s wrong, the more your mind resists answering the question. And sleep (for now). As if it is a 4 y/o and would do the opposite of what you say just for the fun of it. Maybe it’s because I had so much sugar before going to bed. Or because my fucking 6th sense is going crazy on me. I wish I was a man. They have no such problems. If shit happens, it just happens. No preparation, no bad feelings, no restlessness, no left eyebrow dancing, no tingling feeling in the stomach.
Damn, I sound like a kid, that’s about to enter its first exam and is about to puke. Watching movies didn’t help either. Movie’s over, I’m still up, still worried for no apparent reason. I wish there was someone here tonight. Anyone. Talking to another human usually makes me happier. Or sleepy. The last one is a fact. And for the first time since I’m here I feel lonely. Though I just had some beers with the folks, though I know if I wanna have another beer even at 1.40am I can dial a few numbers and have a merry gang at my front door with a 6 pack of Heineken. But it’s a Monday night and my stomach is in a ball. My sleep is hiding and my mind is searching my brain and heart for any hidden troubles. It’s almost as if I’m scared. But not really of something scary, rather of something unknown.
Maybe this is how the psycho’s journals begin...
