tenchi muyo 
california dreamin'
Just spent two days with no sleep whatsoever. And I didn't get to see anything out of the ordinary; no third-eye of any kind awakened to perceive the world beyond its usual dimensions. I couldn't see God, couldn't see any angels or demons, and I certainly didn't get to see the yellow submarine. Kinda disappointed, really. I was hoping to catch some real action of the supernatural kind, to distract me from the mundane activity of finishing up my aircraft maintenance report.
Well, I did get the feeling there was someone or something looking from behind my shoulder every two minutes while I was typing (this was late at night, alone in the study room downstairs, with everyone asleep and the back door open to keep the cigarette smoke from filling up the room). But it was probably just me.
Heard a few rustling sounds coming from outside. Looked around to make sure. Nothing there. Just the stirring of the wind and the endless high-pitched droning of cicadas, interspersed with the occasional screeching cry of bats in the hunt for food. At times there were brilliant flashes of incongruent images being imprinted on my retina, but that was probably from staring at the computer screen for too long. Nothing weird, no strange happenings.
No aliens landing in my backyard to see the leader, no Lucifer appearing out of nowhere demanding I sell my soul to the devil 'cos it's late and there's nothing to live for, no divine visitations from celestial beings yearning for my presence in heaven, and definitely no voluptuous-looking succubi willing to offer me a back rub and stroke my aching neck. Oh well, better luck next time.
Forty-eight hours of pure sleep deprivation, and nothing to show for it (well I did finish the report on time, I'm happy to say). Forty-eight hours, unless you count the naps on the train ride to school and back. Which shouldn't count, because the trains never stop rattling to accomodate the slumberers onboard and the other passengers rarely show the courtesy to stop yammering, two inches away from your face. Listening to The Strokes was the only reprieve to maintain some semblance of peace and quiet.
To think of it, it was actually more than 48 hours. On the third day of my inadvertent sleep deprivation experiment, I had to present my report to class (which went quite well) after which I slept through all the classes for the rest of the day. It helped that I was looking terribly close to dying, and my emphatic phlegm-induced coughing and leaking nostrils accentuated the fact that I probably was. All the lecturers steered clear of me, and so no one disturbed while I slept with unadulterated impunity, except when it was time to leave.
Came home just in time for my brain to shut down completely, and before I could even get out of my clothes to something more comfortable a fail-safe mechanism of the reptilian medulla took over and knocked me out for the next twelve hours. I doubt I dreamt about anything last night, to compensate for the overworked mind.
O glorious, glorious sleep, thou art heaven-sent.
Well, I did get the feeling there was someone or something looking from behind my shoulder every two minutes while I was typing (this was late at night, alone in the study room downstairs, with everyone asleep and the back door open to keep the cigarette smoke from filling up the room). But it was probably just me.
Heard a few rustling sounds coming from outside. Looked around to make sure. Nothing there. Just the stirring of the wind and the endless high-pitched droning of cicadas, interspersed with the occasional screeching cry of bats in the hunt for food. At times there were brilliant flashes of incongruent images being imprinted on my retina, but that was probably from staring at the computer screen for too long. Nothing weird, no strange happenings.
No aliens landing in my backyard to see the leader, no Lucifer appearing out of nowhere demanding I sell my soul to the devil 'cos it's late and there's nothing to live for, no divine visitations from celestial beings yearning for my presence in heaven, and definitely no voluptuous-looking succubi willing to offer me a back rub and stroke my aching neck. Oh well, better luck next time.
Forty-eight hours of pure sleep deprivation, and nothing to show for it (well I did finish the report on time, I'm happy to say). Forty-eight hours, unless you count the naps on the train ride to school and back. Which shouldn't count, because the trains never stop rattling to accomodate the slumberers onboard and the other passengers rarely show the courtesy to stop yammering, two inches away from your face. Listening to The Strokes was the only reprieve to maintain some semblance of peace and quiet.
To think of it, it was actually more than 48 hours. On the third day of my inadvertent sleep deprivation experiment, I had to present my report to class (which went quite well) after which I slept through all the classes for the rest of the day. It helped that I was looking terribly close to dying, and my emphatic phlegm-induced coughing and leaking nostrils accentuated the fact that I probably was. All the lecturers steered clear of me, and so no one disturbed while I slept with unadulterated impunity, except when it was time to leave.
Came home just in time for my brain to shut down completely, and before I could even get out of my clothes to something more comfortable a fail-safe mechanism of the reptilian medulla took over and knocked me out for the next twelve hours. I doubt I dreamt about anything last night, to compensate for the overworked mind.
O glorious, glorious sleep, thou art heaven-sent.
PLAYLIST
Dream On -- Aerosmith
Smooth Operator -- Sadé
If It Were Up To Me -- Rooney
Date With A Night -- Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Daysleeper -- R.E.M.
posted by the narcissist at 11:36:00 pm
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