Tag Archives: sheep


15 Jan

Dear Diary,

It’s early on Sunday morning and I haven’t even tried to sleep yet. However hard I try I can’t seem to pinpoint the reason I’m still awake when the time is slowly wrapping rings around me and leaving its marks in the form of dark circles underneath my eyes. My mind is being weighed down by box upon box of clutter and leaves me wishing the removal men were imminent with a lorry the size of Rupert Murdoch’s bank vault. There was a single beacon in the heavy mist of my mind though and I thought if I chose to write my thoughts down, it could lead to a place where sleep happens to be hiding. Think of it a lot like an insane, slightly clumsy and utterly dreadful game of hide and seek.

Right at this moment I feel nothing and it doesn’t terrify me in the slightest, but it may worry me a little. My heart is sinking, I’m trying to run away from my responsibilities and I feel nothing. It’s so difficult to describe to those who have never felt this feeling and I’m sitting here struggling to do just that. Detached is a word that comes to mind and I believe it will serve me well. I certainly feel detached from the world and everybody in it and this fills me with a sense of relief. Detached equals little or no pain and surely it should make me happy but it never seems to have that affect.

Detached and incredibly self-conscious, the latter merging almost seamlessly inside me until I’m at a loss to see where I start and the black cloud begins. Why I should feel so self-conscious at six thirty five in the morning I do not know, but many of my insecurities stem from that. I don’t just believe my body needs bulldozing from the feet up, also my personality leaves a lot to be desired and what in hell’s name am I actually good at? Everybody has something they can do which amazes others and would set the world alight if released into the polluted atmosphere, yet I’m left with a large question mark looming overhead. I can’t draw, I’ll never create cuisine fit for a Queen and I can moan, but have yet to reach the dizzying heights of Victor Meldrew status. So I’m still left with more unanswered questions then I can shake a stick at which does little to amuse me.

Sleep? No chance.

Sometimes it feels like I’m rounding up sheep. Rowdy sheep who like to party all night and keep the neighbours awake. Sheep that even during the day refuse to eat grass and would rather cause mayhem in the nearby villages with their shifty eyes and kleptomaniac personalities. That’s how stressed I feel right at this moment, especially when I can’t sleep. If I was the farmer who owned a farm full of troublemaking sheep I would be tearing my hair out and begging for a job at Aardman Animations as a script writer. I guess that’s beside the point though and I’ll always be thankful my sense of humour is intact. I’ve found when I having nothing else left in life, a little joking and banter are what help dry the tears until I’m ready to face the world again. It’s only a shame good jokes are hard to come by.

I still have no interest or intention of sleeping. I’m sitting here lost in my thoughts and pondering how many people out there right now are unable to sleep for whatever reason. And I looked the word ‘nothing’ up in an online dictionary. The information I found was rather dull but “nothing’s” first recorded use was in sixteen thirty one. I wonder who first used the word and if they were on the slippery slope to sleep hell? They probably weren’t but it would reassuring to know I wasn’t the only one to pander to such darkness at a ridiculous time of the morning.

Sleep? I think I had better try before I lose my mind completely.

Raindrops out.