I am awake.

I haven’t been sleeping.

In fact, I don’t remember the last time I really slept well.

It shouldn’t be that hard to fall asleep.

I have counted 685,432 sheep.

I have tried the Aromatherapy candles and oils from Bath & Body works.

I have tried reading. Meditating.

I switched off my phone. When nothing worked, I turned it back on.

Australian bushfires. The fascists in India.

An unstable Iraq.

Brexit. Donald Trump.

The Oscar nominations.

Things I could have said.

Things I didn’t say.

The endless list of things my mind keeps jumping around.

Never stopping.

Chatter. Chatter. Chatter.

Like a 24×7 news channel.

Keeps yapping things.

Tells me, I am going to fail.

I am not good enough.

That there is no hope.

That there is no point trying.

“You can’t change the world.”

“It will continue burning.”

I might as well sleep.

But, I can’t sleep.

Blood. Violence.

People screaming. Houses burning.

I stay awake.

Maybe it’s worth writing again so that the monster in my head finds a way out.

Maybe I have forgotten to use words.

Will I find them?

Or have they disappeared into the silent abyss of solitude.

Or will I lose words, just like I have lost my sleep.

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