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Manic, sleepless twig goes to dinner

June 30, 2016

Addendum to title:
Manic, sleepless twig is unable to type a post coherently about a really significant evening.

Okay, I feel like I must be making really poor life choices, as a friend of mine always talks about in Facebook posts from work (in retail).

Over the past three days, I’ve managed to get – and this is being generous – four hours of sleep. It’s probably more like two, and not consistently. On top of that, I keep forgetting to eat, and when I do eat, it’s not much.  I can afford, when it comes to my weight, to not eat for several weeks, but I realize that with regard to my health, I have to be eating more than I have been, and also eating healthy. When 600 of 1500 calories in 2 days comes from coffee, there’s a problem. I’ve compounded that problem by working out each day, burning more calories in a day than I have consumed. And while yes, I really needed to decrease my caloric intake from the unmentionably high number it was, this decrease is far too much to be healthy. I’m not trying to do that. I’m not trying to starve myself. I’m not trying to deny myself sleep. Last weekend, I took multiple sleeping pills… and was up until 4am.

I really need sleep. At this point, I might be considered to be clinically insane due to lack of sleep. I’m not sure how one determines that, but actually, if it’s with a test, I could probably still pass.

Isn’t that what drunks says when they think they should still be driving, though?

Oh my god, I feel like I’m losing my mind in slow motion. I can’t even write this insanity in any order. I just keep jumping around from section to section as I type. Like there are threads of coherence: Syntactically and rhetorically, yeah, I can type. But I can’t focus. I know this sounds insane. Do I hope it sounds insane?

I had hoped that exercise would help me tone things down on a dinner date tonight, but oh god, hell no.

I’m really very sorry. That’s an apology for so many things to so many people that I will not otherwise apologize for or to.

The previous sentence would look and sound awful if rewritten to avoid ending the sentence with a preposition. For fun, I don’t think you should be allowed to end a sentence with the word “preposition.”

Shit Fuck Hell. I’m so wired that I can’t even write this. Please, please, god, let me sleep soon. I really need to be okay, and I’m starting to think that I am not at all okay. I’m so freaking tired.

I really want to be able to communicate how dinner went and why it matters, and I just… can’t. But it mattered. And I was awful, and I’m sad about that. Please, please, god, let me sleep.

I think I’ve been spending too much time in my head (that is to say, editing) with the characters of SIATSIA and bloodflowers.

Fucking empaths. I can’t even work on my own fiction now without getting sucked in.

I really need to calm down.

And I can’t talk to FastCar right now because rational twig knows I will flip the fuck out on him for no entirely irrational reasons, and if there’s ANY hope of us getting back together at some point, I need to not flip out on him.

I’m really sorry.

Tonight mattered to me more than it should have.

I really think I might be insane. At least right now. Maybe not always. Not dangerous. Just insane.


Rational twig would tell me to go to sleep. Quit fucking around and sleep. Skip the coffee tomorrow, do some yoga, skip workout boosters and cardio, eat something nutritionally and calorically balanced. But right now, fucking SLEEP. Maybe stay away from editing for a few days. Work on the artwork due for a charity auction instead, and make it a very zen piece. Include tans and mauves because… they’re like sunset in the desert, and that’s peaceful.

I remember that there is no extra ‘s’ in desert because everything starves there. There is no dessert in the desert.

Go to sleep, Twig, you’re insomnia drunk.(Woah! I capitalized my name!)

I’m really fucking sorry, and I embarrass myself. I’m never going on a date again. I should never go out in public with anyone again, actually. I hope I feel better once I sleep. I will. I know I will. So I’m going to try to listen to rational Twig because while the mania has been a lot of fun, I know I’m in for one hell of a crash, and it’s already starting to look really ugly. Sort of like my fucking obnoxious personality. Oh my god. I was so stupid at dinner. No one will ever love you again, Twig. You’re a complete idiot.


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