Staying up until 4 AM last night was interesting. I certainly felt shame as my baffling European History outline glared at me from my computer screen and the text cursor blinked in sync with the tick of my clock. However, I couldn’t help feeling deviously excited that I was up so late. The open curtain offered no distractions because only solid black stared back from outside. Everything was silent except for the sound of my breath and the tapping of my fingers against the keyboard. It gave me an idea of how the prince in that Disney movie Sleeping Beauty felt like when he found the dormant castle. Like a swan moving through dark glassy water. Everything around him was dimmed, still, and lightly snoring. He must have felt an odd sense of power, seeing people in their most vulnerable state. Perhaps he felt special and privileged to live in a moment that most cannot experience. It feels detached and otherworldly. Or maybe I just had too much caffeine.
Imagine the Prince’s joy when he caught a glimpse of the moving, sparkling forms of the fairies. Thank God! He was not alone. I’ve known for a long time that a car drives into my neighborhood around three or four in the morning. But when the roar of an engine drew my eye to twin beams of light swiveling around the cul-de-sac, my shoulders relaxed without me even knowing they were tense in the first place. Evidence of other life and humans continuing their business relieved me. Someone else was awake, also seeing the world in its unconscious state. It was nice to know. I hadn’t realized that I had been craving company until that moment.
When I climbed into bed at 4:30, I felt like a celebrity falling backwards into the arms of a crowd. Joining the people I belonged. The whisper of rain lulled me to sleep, and my dreams were damp, warm, and dark.
Right now, the effects of three hours of sleep haven’t seemed to catch up to me yet. Obviously, I’m tired, but my brain is still buzzing from momentum. Objects in motion tend to remain in motion, as Newton once said.
This could pass as a creative piece I wrote out of my own volition and creativity…but I’m gonna ruin that impression.
Every Friday morning in English, we would write a two-page journal entry about any topic we chose. Amid the pages and pages filled with scribbled complaints of schoolwork and boys, there are some snippets that astonished me in their half-assed, sleep-deprived expressiveness and wisdom. Below is one of those journal entries that I edited and submitted in my Final Portfolio.
The idea of sculpting a stream of consciousness into a gleaming presentation is probably the most significant thing I’ve learned this entire year of English (kidding), and one that I’m excited to return to (hint hint)!
Thank you for reading!