3am

I glanced up at the clock on the wall, 1:30 – not so bad, I thought to myself, should probably try and go to sleep again soon though, big day tomorrow. Then I looked at the clock a bit closer and realised that it had fallen silent, no longer making its methodical tock that familiarises me so often with the wee hours of the morning. My clock had, in fact, stopped hours earlier, it was actually 3am. Shit. I had done it again, I just have no desire to sleep, there is research to do, stories to write, things to plan and photos to reminisce about. Over 80 hours awake and I still can’t be tired.

I wonder, at times like this, how long it will be before something gives as it invariably will, and I simply crash. Either to an 8hr slumber waking with as much exuberance as I had going in or falling instead into a deep and lasting depression that will crush my soul and threaten my existence.

Rapid cycling is taking its toll, my body starting to crumble but my mind wants to run free – I’m not happy anymore, but I’m not sad either. I just am. Here, now, in the moment. 3am zombie with a back beat of dance music whirling on repeat in my busy little headspace. I should go to bed, lie down rest my legs if nothing else.

I keep checking my email to see if there is a reply from the Guru, which is logically ridiculous, its 3am she’s in bed sleeping, like a sane person. I feel like a kid checking the mail for the 4^th time in the wee hours of a Sunday morning hoping for a card or a letter. There’s no post on weekends, she knows this, but let’s take a peek again, just in case.

Tomorrow is already here, and it will come again with or without sleep. The rooster will awaken in an hour, a 4am call that I always feel must inadvertently alert the foxes to the flocks presence, a move that has probably proven deadly to many an unsuspecting hen over time.

 

Goodnight 3am,
Our chronic friendship really must end.
Flying high on whispers and whims, nothing good comes from hearing your siren hymns,
I can’t stay another day awake, fighting for my freedom and running straight.

The voice it calls my name through the wind, it lures me closer, absolves my sins.
So much to do, so little time, so much music has captured my mind,
In my dreams my songs will fly, but so many more were left behind to die.

The rooster cries and dark becomes light. Let the final dawn end, the final night.
Goodnight 3am.