Words

Sleep, shouldn't I be alseep? I glance at the clock, 12:00, 1:00, 2:00 am. Why aren't I asleep yet? I'm not a fucking insomniac. The staccato rhythm of clicks and clacks remind me. I look down and I notice my fingers tap dancing clumsily across the keyboard. Letters form on the screen and the letters form words. There are so many of them, staring at me.

Words, they form people and places, things are simply words. In my groggy state I cannot interpret them and therefore I cannot see them. What are they here for? What do they mean? I don't know why but they seem to be important. There must be a reason. I look at the first page. Assignment due Thursday it screams at me. Thursday, when was that again? Today is Thursday so that must mean. yes, Thursday is today. I have to finish this today.

As my fingers move of their own accord, my eyes begin to close and my mind wanders. I wonder how many words I'm made of. If you cut me up into little pieces, how many words would I be? Or maybe I'm just one word. It's a funny thing, words. When you think about it they're nothing at all and yet we attach so much significance to them. Words are just words, curious little arcane scrawlings that only have as much meaning as you choose to attach to them. We attach far too much meaning to them. Once I called my mom a bitch and she got into a hissy fit all over it. Lighten up mom, it's just a word. God, what a bitch.

I stare at the screen for a while and struggle to remember what I was writing about. It must have been important. The more I stare, the more puzzling it becomes. Soon the words become nonsensical little squiggles and they mean nothing, absolutely nothing at all. So I give up. Fuck this, I'm going to sleep.