Not only did I not have trouble falling asleep last night, but I did not wake up in the night, not once! Perhaps my battle with insomnia is finally coming to an end! I still had jacked up dreams, but they didn't keep waking me up. I'm starting to think my Glee dream was actually induced by a fever... Weird dreams are pretty normal for me, but they don't generally cause me fitful nights; rather, they just cause me to think "huh, THAT was bizarre!" when I wake up. I am trying to be more consistent in writing them down 'cause some of them are pretty good stories. My subconscious self is way more interesting than my conscious self is.
Speaking of stories - I'm almost done reading City of Glass by Paul Auster. You should read it. And then read the graphic novel version (I read it a couple of years ago and then found out it was based on a novel. It's really quite good). I want to read the other 2 now. I'm at that point in the book where all I want to do is read because the story in the book seems more like reality than real life does. Do you know what I mean? Where you get so into the book you're reading that it begins to seem more like what is actual and your daily life, when you're not reading, feels like the story. Albeit a less interesting and more mundane story, but maybe that's why the switch happens. And you find yourself throughout the day thinking "Why am I doing this right now? None of this is real. This is just a story. What's really happening is such and such from such and such book." And then you realize that the book has taken over your mind and until you finish it you won't be able to fully come back to "real" life. And the truly amazing books are those that you sort of keep believing are reality even after you've finished them, and later there are times when you can't remember if you read about so-and-so in a book or heard about such-and-such in a book, or if they were real.
You have no idea what I'm talking about? That only happens to me? I'm sort of a freak?
Fair enough.
Now where's some wood...I gotta knock on it really hard, or maybe punch it (just in case my insomnia-less joy was premature).
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:D Well, I never feel comfortable forcing others to join my bad company, but I do understand what you're saying about books & reality. And sometimes I look around, and with life being so short and all,it makes it seem even more surreal. Very strange. Perhaps because there's more reality somewhere than meets the eye? <3
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