Bedtime Thoughts 23

 

I can’t fucking sleep. I gave it my all, but I can’t do it. Way earlier in the night I said, “Fuck it” and decided to do some pushups in the dark in my underwear while writing an email to someone, and then I brushed my teeth because I had forgotten (forgotten in this instance means didn’t want to) earlier in the night and then I collapsed in bed for an hour and still haven’t been able to fall asleep. This is complete bullshit.

I’ve been thinking of her of course. I’m almost always thinking of her. Even when I masturbate I’m thinking of her. Not in the way you may think. She’s extremely sexy, but for some reason masturbating to thoughts of her just seem wrong. Instead I look at other women. Other women who aren’t her. And I wish she were with me so I wouldn’t waste so much time masturbating which I only partially do for pleasure, while I mostly do it out of boredom and to stop thinking, which doesn’t quite work as well as it once did.

I’m listening to The Icarus Account right now. The same The Icarus Account that left a comment on one of my blog posts because I had one of their songs at like 98^th on my list. Pretty cool moment. Had the list been made now they’d have more songs on the list. They’re easily in my top ten favorite bands. Okay, I’d have to think that further through to make that declaration. But I can say that they’ll easily be in my top ten favorite bands soon. So many of their songs touch home with me. Well not home as literal home. But home as in the home that is the soul housed within my body. Not that I necessarily believe in souls. The song Anchors Away particularly hits the metaphorical home with me,

“Every time I miss you I’m afraid that you’ve found someone else. That every thought I’ve spent on you is another moment here that I’ve lost. You don’t have time to talk, am I a memory that you’ve forgot? And what scares me most is how I’ve fall, I’ve fall, I’ve fallen for you. Hook line and sinker to every part of my heart.”

We’ve gone weeks, even months without talking before, but she always eventually talks to me again, but this time it feels different. Okay, that’s a complete lie. It feels exactly the same. But it’s still a shitty feeling. And it’s still a feeling of not knowing if she’ll ever talk to me again. It’s weird because I feel so close to her, but if she was going out with someone I don’t think she’d ever feel the need to talk to me. I don’t think it’s as cold as it sounds. I think she knows that we can’t just be friends. Or maybe it is just her not wanting to break my heart with that news? Or maybe she just found a guy who makes her happy and she forgot all about me? If it’s the first case I’d rather have the broken heart. If it’s the second then I’m happy for her.

I don’t feel like writing this has gotten me any closer to sleep. And now I’m hungry. I can’t wait to make breakfast in the morning, whenever morning might come for me. Now it feels like one of those nights where once I finally get to sleep I might sleep for ten or twelve hours, which is not something I’d like to do.

I guess I’m just gonna write until I fall asleep. Not write this. I’m done writing this.

#44 I Want More Anneliese Van Der Pol

#44 The Great Awakening by Say Anything

I really enjoy the concept of this song. That the lullaby is designed to wake the person up so they can spend more time together. It’s like why would I want to help her fall asleep? I mean sure people need sleep and if she doesn’t get enough sleep she’ll probably be very groggy in the morning. But if she goes to sleep that means I have to go quietly jerk myself off in the closet. The least she can do is meet me halfway and jerk me off while she waits for her ambien to kick in. I assume this is what was going through Max Bemis’s head when he wrote the song.

As I sit here, well half sitting half lying, wondering where to go with this, tossing nerds in my mouth three at a time, I realize I have started this sentence with no idea of how to finish it, but I assume I’ll put a period at the end of it; I mixed things up!

Now that's a sideboob Peter Griffin can appreciate.

Back on the subject of sleep, I do it too much. Sleeping a lot sounds like a good thing, but it’s horrible. I miss out on so much of life. Like what the hell goes on before noon? I’m still totally confused on that. People will get up of their own accord and actually accomplish things before noon? I thought that getting up early stuff ended after school. Unless we’re talking about getting up for Saturday morning cartoons of course.

Do they still have Saturday morning cartoons? Whenever I tune in, for the brief moments I’m awake before noon before quickly going back to sleep, I always see Zack and that Cody dude or That’s So Raven getting into her future seeing mischief. A couple things about that show. I was always attracted to the red headed chick for some reason. Probably because that show was on during the time when I was extremely into red heads. I want some foresight credit for that because no one would listen to me back then and now every one of my male friends seems to be into red heads. Also did anybody else notice that as Raven gained weight the red headed friend lost weight? Was this coincidental or some kind of optical illusion? Also did anybody else notice that since that movie where Martin Lawrence played her father and drove her to college she’s never been in anything else, yet for some reason Martin Lawrence gets to be in another Big Mama’s movie?

I’d be a lot lazier in the trying to change the future thing than Raven was. For one every time she saw something bad happen in the future she would try to change only to learn at the end of the episode that what she saw wasn’t really that bad, it just looked bad in and of itself, but when taken in context it wasn’t that bad, and usually it was actually good. After about five times of going through that I’d be like, “Fuck you future seeing powers. If you’re gonna keep tricking me like that I’m just going to grab a bag cheesy puffs and watch some classic Newsradio. I don’t care if you show me O.J. Simpson bending my father over a chair and pulling his pants down, I am not moving my ass from this coach, and it’s not just because I wouldn’t really care if that happened to my dad.”

Brenda Song reminds me of why I loved Asian girls so much when I was younger.

But seriously, do they still show cartoons that often on Saturday morning? I’m sure to most of us my age we all revered watching those terribly horrible shows. Holy Christ, sometimes I see clips of them and they are oh so crappy. I know The Power Rangers wasn’t exactly a cartoon, but if I was forced to watch that crap nowadays…I totally would because it would be so fun to make fun of. I don’t think these shows are that horrible. Well at least the ones aimed for preteens. Maybe the ones for little kids suck major balls, but they’re little kids, they don’t care. But shows like the aforementioned Zach and Cody aren’t horrible. Not too mention a young Ashley Tisdale and Brenda Song aren’t too shabby for the boys to look at while they experiment once their balls drop (writing that was kind of very creepy). They’re both bonafide hotties now. I’ve had a pretty big crush on Ashley Tisdale for a while now and Brenda Song was looking good in the Facebook movie (The Social Network) even though her character was batshit crazy, which is actually a turn on, which is something I’m not proud to admit, which makes me wonder why I just admitted it.

The Jerk Report: who likes naps and cereal?

Naps – You’re too wonderful. I keep getting home and I’m so tired but it’s not time to sleep yet but I keep taking naps and it throws me so off schedule that I end up only getting two hours of sleep before school the next day and it kind of sucks. Plus naps are great, but whenever I wake up from one I never feel refreshed, I just feel more tired and like I want to lie in bed all day. I learned in Psychology class that the perfect time for a nap is about 2 and a half hours because it gets you through one full cycle of the sleep cycle. My naps tend to be longer, along the lines of five or six or even seven hours. I know you may be thinking, ‘well that’s not a nap, that’s sleeping.’ No, sleeping for me is ten to sixteen hours. But anyway, I’m tired of writing and need another nap. Naps, you’re Jerks!

Creep(s) of the Week

The people in my house who finished the Frosted Flakes – So I wake up from my afternoon nap and I’m laying in my bed when I remember that there’s Frosted Flakes in the kitchen, which is lucky for me because I’m hungry and I love Frosted Flakes. So I get out of bed, make my way to the kitchen, and great, the box of Frosted Flakes is still sitting there. Now my mouth is salivating with the anticipation of getting those flakes with their sweet frosting into my eating hole. But no! When I picked up the box it was light, too light. I looked inside it and it was empty, too empty, in fact completely empty, devoid of every last frosted crumb. Only the wonderful smell remained, taunting me. First of all this is a problem I run across a lot in my household, people not throwing away empty boxes. The God damn recycling bag is right in the fucking kitchen. You take no steps to get to it from where the cereal is. You just turn around and place the empty box of Frosted Flakes in the fucking bag. It takes no time, and that benefit is that we don’t have to live like idiots. But back to me and not getting any Frosted Flakes. Now my choices are Rice Krispies or starve to death. If it wasn’t for sugar I would have chosen death. I have to put a pound of sugar on my Rice Krispies just to boost the taste up to crap. It takes me three pounds of sugar just to get the taste up to something I can stand to swallow, but I’d be better off just eating spoonfuls of sugar at this point. And to make things worst, while I was eating the Rice Krispies a saw a hair floating in the bowl, and as I went to scoop it out with my spoon the Krispies parted and swallowed the hair, hiding it from me, and then mocked me with their snapping, crackling and that God damn popping; I hate the noise of Rice Krispies; it will forever mock me in my dreams. So I never found the hair but that didn’t stop me from finishing every last one of those insipid Rice Krispies. And now they’re not sitting well in my stomach. This whole situation could have been avoided had my mother bought two boxers of Frosted Flakes instead one and also a box of Rice Krispies, which I tend to believe no one likes much because the Frosted Flakes are always gone before the box of Rice Krispies is even opened. (You’re twenty two, why don’t you buy your own damn Frosted Flakes.) No way, I live at home and while I do I’m going to milk it for all I can. And since I brought it up in a way, what’s with the reduced fat milk. I want the fat. I’m all skin and bones, and a few mysterious bumps that I can’t figure out what they are, but the point is I need the milk fat. No, the point is I need my Frosted Flakes. The people in my house who finished the Frosted Flakes, you’re JERKS!