Bookmark #427

When did I last get some proper shut-eye? I reckon it was over two days ago. In this sudden influx of inexplicable insomnia, I have laid in bed on time for two nights but have woken up after a couple hours of sleep. From that point, it has been nothing but wakefulness and a continual failure to lose myself in the realm of sleep. And so, for the past two nights, I have stayed in bed till the light of dawn has announced my defeat, and then, I have gotten out of bed and gone for a run. It has been an unexpected but exhilarating revival of an old habit. It has been over a decade since I sprinted on the streets of this town; I have only run away from it for the better part of the past ten years.

For the past two mornings, at about five, I have managed to get myself reacquainted with who I was all those years ago. With Satie’s Gymnopédies and Beethoven’s Für Elise, I have traced the streets in a new light. The town and the roads have changed from what I recalled. There are grounds and fields where hundreds run; the park is made anew, too, and all sorts of people come together to exercise in the morning. At one point, I felt the urge to join these crowds, but I saw they were all there for a purpose; some trained as if for some goal, some were there to play; I was only running to sleep. That was all I wanted, so I continued alone on the street. I have never found myself too comfortable with crowds anyhow. And what is more, I don’t quite enjoy running around in circles.

I do not yet know what has prevented me from sleeping. Still, I do not feel tired, not after running or working or continuing with my daily exercise regimen or even going through the motions of the day. I have found it fitting to not forget why we do something; most people become the very things they do because they lack identity. It has been my philosophy to know that I exist; all else serves a purpose. I write to forget; I work to pay the bills; I exercise to live longer; I make a good cup of coffee to stay awake; and now, I run to fall asleep. I’m sure I will tire myself enough to doze off soon. For now, it is the morning—the birds are about. Another day waits to be seized. I must get on with it.

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