Another sleepless night

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours. How many? I don’t know but I know it has been hours. I don’t know my motive to keep staring at the damn ceiling. It won’t help calm this whirlwind of thoughts buried inside my mind. It won’t entertain me. It’s just a boring white ceiling. I assume fetal position. I read somewhere that it’s the best position to fall asleep in. Here goes nothing. I close my eyes. Now I’m in perfect sleeping conditions, but even in perfect sleeping conditions I feel uneasy. I close my eyes tighter. No difference. I open my eyes. The first thing I see is my desk. Man, that desk is so messy that a whole world could exist hidden in there. Probably already exist, and whatever things inhabit there probably speak

Spanish. Wait a second, shit I forgot to do my Spanish homework. Well I’m not asleep, or close to it so I might as well do it.
I get out of my bed and turn on the light. Now, because of the illumination I feel a little at ease. Not completely but at least more than I was. I get my rolling chair that is tossed in a corner of my room, straighten it up, and sit on it. I roll to another corner of my room to get my book bag, that is about to rip itself to shreds by how old it is. I open it and get my binder and Spanish textbook. Since my desk is messy to a point where it can’t get messier, I work on my lap. I don’t understand the homework well. I’ve never been good at Spanish class. I guess the first 10, answering them with words like pollo, loco, nachos, linda, bueno, hola, ect. You know, words that even British 6 year olds must know. I read the next sentence. It says this: Ese modelo es__________. Jumping into the conclusion that modelo is model I start to think about my brother, which, frankly makes me pretty angry. I close my binder and throw it at my desk. It falls out and hits the floor right after. I don’t feel like finishing this.

I stand up and let the textbooks slide off my lap. They fall on the floor with a loud thud. I guess I’m letting everything fall on the floor tonight. I hope I didn’t wake anyone up. I don’t want anyone else having a bad night. I walk to my desk obviously not to use it but to get my mp3, which is buried in piles of my shit. Once I find it and rescue it I turn it on and check the time. It’s 4:03 AM. I still got like three hours to kill. I think I can kill one with music. I fall on the bed and wrap myself in my sheets. I reach out to the lamp and turn off the light. I select shuffle all. The random song that comes up is Mind Reader by Versaemerge. Not exactly the song I want to listen to but its okay so I leave it on.

Even with the music I don’t feel relaxed. I close my eyes and let the train of my thoughts break. For a second I was about to finally fall asleep. But I just remembered that when I checked the time it was 4:03 AM. 16 years ago from today, January 29th, I was born in 4:03AM. I just turned 16 and I was too dim minded to notice. The one thing (okay, maybe one of the things) that has been keeping me up all night suddenly seems stupid. I open my eyes and sit on the bed. I stay like that for a few minutes, thoughtless, until the song ends. There is a small silence in between Mind Reader and whatever song comes next. I sigh in that small second and think “What now?” Up at Night by Terrible Things starts to play. What a Déjà Vu. I smile little. A great calm blankets me. I listen to my mp3 when I can’t sleep because when the right song pops up, like this one, it relaxes me. I assume fetal position. Now that I think I can fall asleep I better get on a good position. Don’t want to fall asleep in freefall, like usual. Now that I’m 16 I want to feel like if I’ve changed somehow.