When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep and you're never really awake. No, you're some manic creature convinced you're a member of the living dead. And at this witching hour, with heavy eyelids but a still rapid moving mind, you stare at white walls and wish there was another living soul as sleep deprived as you are. I think I'm a night owl, by some default. And there should be somebody awake at four am to tell me to go to sleep. Or at least to suffer alongside me. But hey, it's only 2:30 am right now, let's hope that I finally feel tired by three.

Except we all know I won't be considering my sleep pattern for the past couple of nights. In an act of desperation, maybe I'll study. Ha.