Ah, the dance with insomnia, where sleep tiptoes around like a shy suitor, forever just out of reach. My mind, a carnival of chaos, with thoughts racing like Olympic sprinters and dreams haunted by AI-built skyscrapers plotting their sinister takeover. Sleep, that elusive temptress, flirts with me from afar, leaving me to drown in a sea of bad TV and desperate hopes.
But when slumber finally graces me with its presence, it’s a bumpy ride through a surreal landscape straight out of a Kurosawa or Jim Jarmusch fever dream. Shadows morph into specters, and reality bends like a contortionist in a funhouse mirror. Surrealism becomes my bedfellow, wrapping me in its eerie embrace as I navigate the labyrinthine corridors of my subconscious.
In this nocturnal carnival of the absurd, I am but a hapless traveler, wandering through the twisted alleys of my mind while AI monoliths loom overhead, casting ominous shadows. Every corner holds a new surprise, every dream a new twist in the plot of this bizarre, sleep-deprived saga.
So as I bid farewell to yet another sleepless night, I raise a weary toast to the resilience of the sleep-deprived soul. For in the darkest hours, we find solace in the absurdity, laughter in the chaos, and perhaps, just perhaps, a glimmer of hope that tomorrow’s dreams will be a little less… avant-garde.
Categories: Film, identity, mental health, Pop Culture, Psychology, society
psychologistmimi 
Huh what? What anxiety dream? All metaphors and no details like a murder mystery that presents only the dead bodies which are buried quickly without an autopsy, police investigation, funeral, or obituary, and like a passing mention of the recovered body in a UFO which is waved away by a psychologist as a minor delusion. They have proposed and done in a limited way constructing buildings with a 3D printer oozing layers of concrete. In theory, they could build a building by computer without using any human labor, and A.I. could design the architecture, and building plans.
So what’s up doc? Can’t sleep? Where are the Luddites when you need them?
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All my nights are now sleepless – have been for years. I may be up ten, twelve times a night.
I cope by not letting it get to me, but simply getting comfortable and putting myself back to bed as many times as I can – to get as much total sleep as I can accumulate. Lack of angst is key – we have an understanding, the mind and I: there is NOTHING I can do about anything in the middle of the night, so I write it down (if there’s an it), and go to the next sleep chunk.
Part of the ME/CFS mess, and I don’t tolerate medications, so I’ve learned how to live with it, and not let it be worse than it already is.
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So true that if one’s suffers angst about sleeplessness it will make it worse.
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