StarF drives a lot and doesn't sleep

Here you go again.

Is it that time already? I ask myself again and again when I reach this point. It seems so strange to be here again. When was the last time I wrote anything meaningful? I no longer create stories, I just rant about ranting about ranting. Where is the substance?

It’s all gone.

I know, that’s why I’m here writing this, so what, what do I do now? Have an internal monologue in public? What’s the point of that? Perhaps I should just go to sleep, that’s what I’ve wanted to do for the past hour is just go to sleep. So that’s what I’m going to do. I have to be up early in the morning anyway. I don’t have time for this.

You can’t go to sleep.

The hell I can’t! I feel sufficiently tired and my bed is waiting right outside that door! I can rip myself right off the internet and avoid the thousand other types of media vying for my attention. I don’t need any of it at all! I just need to go to sleep, to get some proper rest. That’ll fix everything.

It’s not that…

Oh? Then what is it? You’re just the voice inside my head, you don’t get to have insider information. I own you, motherfucker, so you’ll tell me right this instant the reason I can’t leave here and go to sleep. You tell me what it is that makes me write garbage on a screen rather than sleep. Or at least craft a decent story. I have so many good ideas for stories you know, and here I am wasting my time on this. So go ahead, tell me.

If you go to sleep, you might miss it.

Miss what, exactly? I don’t understand.

Of course you understand, you’re me, remember?

Oh, right, adding some sort of conflict just gives the illusion of a narrative here, I remember. Then humor me, because we both know this isn’t going anywhere without some sort of forced dialogue.

You’ll miss everything. The world doesn’t stop because you’re going to sleep.

I’m connected at all times to everyone and everything. And without them in my life, who’s to say when they will attempt to contact me. Am I really letting it all go to my head again?

Of course you are, it’s you.

You’re me, shut up.

I know, I hate it.

Don’t we all.

So what are you going to do?

To hell with it all, I’m going to sleep. I don’t care anymore. I don’t care. I’ll forget any of it ever existed and pretend it doesn’t matter. And I will sleep. Every night I will sleep, and it will be a glorious prize.

You won’t do any of that.

Yeah, yeah I won’t. I can’t. But it sure did seem nice for a second, didn’t it? I suppose if I really was going to I wouldn’t be here, typing this, would I?

You got me there.

So where do we go from here?

To sleep, just remember not to blink. You might miss a vital opportunity.

I’d just fuck it all up anyway, why not get some rest in the process?

That’s the spirit.