When the clock hits 11 I do consider going to bed, but then something inside me says, “not yet”.
Late nights have become the norm.
The late hours at which I hit the sack are no longer an exception. It’s become the way I live my life. Or the way life lives me? It’s hard to judge, I can’t see me.
I have unproductive days because I only wake once the afternoon has begun. As I get out of bed I think about what needs to be done, I become restless.
Time is not on my side and I feel shit. I’ve got too much to do, I’m thirsty, have a headache and feel like a tit.
For going to bed too late, reading articles and watching video’s about subjects that are interesting but of no use to me progressing in life. In fact it keeps me down.
Purely intelectual theoretical nonsense, not even worth one pence.
Yet this is what I devote my evenings to. Long hours of thinking, thinking, thinking.
It’s become an obsession. There’s no pleasure. Only discontent. And when I wake up I only feel regret.
I regret listening to that voice in my head that says,”not yet” when my body tells me to go to bed. I regret it nearly every day. Just like today. But as the clock strikes 11 I make the same mistake.