New Hampshire storm
July 8, 2020

Sleepless

You can almost taste it, that bright metallic sensation which floods the brain when it decides there will be no sleep tonight. Last night I tossed and twisted in the sheets while wondering if I’ve become a dinosaur. While the rest of the house slept, I lay wide-eyed in bed and listened to the insects buzz in the New Hampshire woods like bad reception. The world feels as if it’s spiraling beyond my comprehension, but perhaps I’m just getting old. Maybe it’s time to make some kind of cognitive leap or be left forever pining for the past.

In the afternoon, I watched a storm roll across the White Mountains, a line of thunderheads with an animal logic that dragged veils of rain across the trees. I watched the raindrops approach until they reached my toes and began falling on my head.


Andy Stott – Sleepless

Luxury Probems | Modern Love, 2012 | Boomkat
Each night in 2020 I'm writing a short post for a series called Notes From the End of a World because I want to etch these days into my memory before I forget them. Before the world changes completely.
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