Mr. Insomnia

Hi. How are you? Hope you are fine. (Because I’m not.)

I hope I can borrow some of your precious precious time. (Because you have stolen most of mine.) I have a string of questions addressed specifically to you, Mr. Insomnia of 5th Dread Street, Hate Avenue, Melancholy Boulevard, City of Despair, Malevolent County, State of Wanton. You have to answer them sweet and nicely (even if I know you’re not used to it), and you have to answer them now.

I would state my questions in the simplest possible terms, since I know if I add just even a tiny wee bit of metaphorical language, you will not be able to comprehend everything. Your non-existent brain does not have the minutest of convolutions, and the breadth of your myelin sheaths are of the yoctometer range.

Here goes. First, why is it that you occur when you are the last thing on Earth that I would want? When I have an exam, you suddenly spring to my system, inhibiting the secretion of serotonin, and commanding my brain to stay alert, only to shutdown in the morning. If only you did not exist, I could have at least faced all my exams with a wide-awake mentality, my brain on its acumen.

Second, why does it seem like you get pleasure out of my despair? Due to your existence, I would often wake up way too late, skipping all my morning classes, and yet still sleepy for my afternoon class. And because of you, I rarely see Jessa, Jerome, and Rigor.

Third, don’t you know that I value my health too? There’s an imbalance of melatonin in my system, and my circadian rhythm has been grossly distorted. I blame you for all this.

Fourth, look at my face, don’t you see any gouge marks? You leave a trace every time you afflict me, and it shall take time before I get to erase them. And with you always pestering me, it might take forever.

That’s basically it. No more questions, ‘cause I’m afraid you’ll go berserk if I throw another question at you.

If you happen to read and understand this (both have infinitely small probability, with the latter being a tad less possible), please drop a comment. Or, better yet, eat your shit and never show your phugly face at me ever again.