About Insomnia

I thought I was done dealing with insomnia.
I know I've made a list of days when I would have to stare and stare at wall clocks and wristwatches just to watch how slowly time passes by. And that was how I started hating wearing wristwatches.
It still gives me creeps to remember my first time to experience 48 sleepless hours. I went to Baguio, read several chapters of a thick paperback book I never managed to finish, met with my friends (then student-of-law Lury and disk jockey Divina), had coffee with them at a Shell station at 4 in the morning, and done some more crazy stuff.
After that, everything else was relatively easy. I never think of the need to sleep because I was always busy. I never thought about the importance of getting sleep because I never take a second look at how hollow my eyes would get if I miss out on those precious hours of sleep. I just wanted to enjoy every second of life.
Eventually, though, something changed. I got lazy and then I had time to sleep.
And then, I had to deal with nightmares.
Thank heavens, now I'm back to being an insomniac. It's better than having nightmares.