Stream of consciousness

“Forego sleep when an idea strikes,” I offered as a writing tip in my opinion writing class a few weeks ago.


It should have been, “If you can’t sleep, write.” ‘Cause that’s what I’m doing right now.

And since I read this article a few days ago, I know I’m simply screwing my brain over by not sleeping right now. So that feels good. Those imaginary garbage men are getting some time off after working overtime to clean out the toxins I accumulated this past weekend.

I’m up because my heart won’t stop racing. I had this same problem when I was younger. My mom would tell me to clear my head and stop thinking so much, but I never could.

Tonight I’ve been overanalyzing relationships I’ve had and imagining new ones.

The unknown scares me, but each day I plunge deeper and deeper into it.

I wish I had more time with my grandmother.

“Where were you?” My roommates asked last weekend.

“Visiting my grandparents,” I replied.

Grandma ushered me into their warm, cozy home with a plate of cookies and a chair to sit in next to a crackling fireplace. Papa cracked a joke and Grandma offered me a glass of milk to go with my cookies.

I wish.

No. I stood next to a hunk of cold marble holding an umbrella in one hand and a bouquet of autumn-colored flowers in the other. “Happy Sweetest Day,” I said and produced enough tears to rival the rain.

That was an exaggeration. But you get my point. I cried a lot, okay?

These brand-new sheets of mine have already developed pills and it pisses me off. I must thrash around in my sleep. Don’t read too far into that.

Now this is just turning into a stream of consciousness post. Hey, Virginia Woolf.

Speaking of Virginia Woolf, I’m still wondering if I should drop my English major. Make it a minor. Make it easier. But since when has Emily ever take the easy way out of things? Haha never. 

My hands still smell like the onions I chopped for the batch of potato soup I made on Friday. Papa would have loved it.

Most of the things I’ve been mulling over are now in this post. I’ll let the rest fester. You’ve suffered long enough.

I had been meaning to write about my visit to my grandparents’. I’m glad I suffered from insomnia tonight.

But now I just want to sleep.

What I wish I was doing right now.
What I wish I was doing right now.


One thought on “Stream of consciousness

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