As it says, presumably buried deep within the Bible, “No rest for the wicked” and so it is for this wicked soul. My apologies for the ignorance I exhibit to sacred texts but never fear coz Wikipedia is here which has confirmed the origin of the aforementioned quote as The Book of Isaiah. Although the Bible is oftentimes praised for its poetic and beautiful verse, I admittedly find it somewhat tedious to read and for the most part, my aesthetic is too base to find admiration in a series of books that speak in colourful language to articulate the meaning of existence. That is ostensibly defined as the glorification of God. Well that is the impression I get from Bible Bashers and from my limited knowledge of religious matters.

It has been pointed out to me from the most unlikely figures that the Bible is fundamental reading in order to appreciate some of histories great literary figures, like Shakespeare, whom I’m lead to believe, sources Biblical texts in many of his plays. I’m fond of some classical literature but I seem to have an aversion to Shakespeare, perhaps because I have shady memories from High School where we attempted to de-construct and analyse a couple of his plays, Othello was one and I also recall Macbeth, but it all flew over my head. Interest in poetry was pretty non existent at the time and even today it isn’t too appealing. Having to decipher Old-English and to then decrypt metaphorical speech into some contemporary point of reference is too hard for a simple and feeble minded person such as myself. Perhaps I could go back now to acquaint myself with such great literary heritage, now that I have a better grasp on language, however care factor is essentially zero and I have more pressing matters that need fulfilling. It isn’t to say that I wouldn’t mind possessing greater awareness of cultural heritage but it is something that requires extensive research and study to make gains, a big call in these times of idle distraction and the fast pace to nowhere we seem driven by. The best I can do is the occasional reading of poetry I find compelling and pleasurable, The Rhyme Of The Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge is a favourite and the beauty of it is that Iron Maiden has a cut down version of this lyrical beast, set to music – I recommend having a listen if you are metallurgically minded. I was also directed to Faces In The Street by Henry Lawson when I was doing a short course in creative writing as something that would be up my alley. I found Faces In The Street chilling, provoking a profound sense of sorrow but the lecturer was right, I did find it fitting to my aesthetic. Perhaps one day in retirement the classical aesthetic will draw me into examining the gifts to be garnished from the masters of yesteryear.

Anyways more to the point, my weekly dose of insomnia has been fulfilled and I have no real idea if my wickedness has been attoned for by the sleepless angel keeping watch over my weary body but I sure could use some sleep regardless.

Insomnia. My mind is in ruins from not having time in the nether world of sleep. It was somewhere around 4am last night that I finally fell into that blissful state, or 4am this morning, if I’m to be pedantic about technicalities. If that wasn’t bad enough, Sunday saw to it that I received Nada by way of rest and recouping the savages of late night obsessive pondering. So I have but a handful of hours in unconscious lassitude and still I feel the compulsion to sway with the midnight candle as it flutters away time. It’s complete self disintegration, I know if I burn that candle then the fabric of reality will begin to distort and fray, around its edges. Hallucination will kick in sometime in the wee hours of this morning or perhaps tomorrow I’ll merely collapse from exhaustion. Nothing in comparison to the battle I’m still waging with those woeful microbes that will not leave, even after I’ve made it clear to them, that they have overstayed their welcome. Maybe that is just deluded thinking, clouded from not sleeping. Why would the bacteria leave when I provide such unsanitary means for them to replicate and feast, after all it seems as though the immune system is healthiest in a well rested body. But for all the good intentions of getting to bed early, my mind just doesn’t want to play ball.

It’s unusual that I have a “double-up” on insomnious nights but not way out of the ordinary, its rather more uncommon for a trifecta to appear but I’m hoping that a hat trick isn’t in store for me tonight. I really need to look into this self abuse I seem have no trouble in performing. The problem is that I haven’t the willingness to allow myself a wind down. I can prescribe myself a cure to this self abuse, which would entail;

• No reading or information absorption after a set time, say 10:30pm – mental stimulation has a detrimental affect on my ability to fall asleep.
• No caffeine after 5pm. Some form of exercise, ideally on a daily basis but 4 to 5 days would be okay.
• Eat properly, no quick and easy dinners.
• Endeavouring to wake at the same time 7 days a week, no excuses.

The trouble is I know what I need to do but starting the routine seems to be where I stumble. I want my cake and to not eat it seems like a waste. My starting point has to be the exercise routine, I’ve become so lazy over the last couple of years since I had a routine in motion. If I can reestablish getting out of the house when I get home from work then at least some of the other things on my list will follow.

Now all I have to do is get over this bug that is sucking me dry.