I haven't slept in over 30 hours.
By choice, not because of some nagging depressive state of mind that usually keeps me awake because of thoughts i like to wallow in.
I'm not usually as adventurous as people think I am. I like routine. I like looking forward to starting the same consistent cycle in a brand new spanking day.
Which is why I don't really do well with impromptu invitations.
My first impulse is always to decline.
Call me anti-social, but maybe I've gotten used to small groups.
But anyway, some old old ghosts from the past insisted that we meet up, and even as I continually discourage them from wasting any more time and text money on me, they still decided to show up in front of my house anyway.
At 2 in the morning.
So off we went, not having anywhere in particular we were supposed to go to. Ended up driving around alot and even discovered some literal dead ends along the way (blame it on our tipsy driver who started drinking early in the evening. Apparently, they all just felt like going out. Getting out is more like it. Out of life, out of their loves, out of everything that restrains us from being who we truly want to be. How liberating, if only for just a few quick hours.
We ended up at someone's house. Drinking and talking. As usual, I had about one fourth of what everybody else had drunk, but ended up being the reddest come going home time. And speaking of going home time, I got back to my house at 11am. Helluva time to get back to sleep. So I didn't.
Sleep will come to me. But it's gotta catch me first. Haha. I'm still dazed