What I like to call limbo time

"Why can't unconsciousness rain on me?"

I stayed awake till 6 in the morning the night before last. I woke up throughout the "night" and finally kept conscious at an hour past noon and by 8 this night was tired and falling asleep to a documentary about Danny Trejo. I went to bed at 10 and awoke from nightmare dreams of grading essays and dealing with students who are confused by simple things and now it is 1 am and I can't sleep. My girlfriend is asleep. The world is asleep. The dog is awake, but that's it. I have no desire for anything but oblivion. Don't want to be on the internet, or read, or watch DVDs of shows or movies. Me and the dog and I'm stuck in someplace I like to call limbo time where only I truly exist, whether I want to or not.

All work and no play...?

I feel like Jack Nicholson in The Shining--Except I'm not as cool as Jack.

I hope my death comes with this absolute feeling of helplessness.

This is something I thought the other day while commuting my 40 miles to work on a gloomy day in my gloomy car and luckily the HOV lane was open and as I entered it I glanced at what is the exit ramp for when the HOV lane travels westbound and not eastbound and imagined a car bursting into the HOV lane and pushing my car over the wall and that I would hope that I would have a feeling of absolute helplessness as time would slow down in order for me to truly appreciate the moment and the consequence like the time I almost got my ass kicked by the bully of whichever grade it was while I was in middle school and in the then present I laughed, because it was one of those days when I wanted nothing but solitude, only I had to man my position at my workplace and I supposed that in oblivion I would find solitude, but it was just a thought, perhaps in too much simple, yet straightforward detail, and I kept driving without incident on this gloomy day that could have been any weekday or perhaps even a weekend day.

And I laughed.

Certainly not the best night ever...

I have this immense feeling of muted anxiety centered in my chest. If it's my destiny, I'm not sure where it's pulling me. My chest feels sort of heavy and it slightly feels like it's difficult to breathe, though I know it's not.

I had this feeling two nights before Thanksgiving, when I knew I'd be going to New York. After Tuesday night's sleep I felt fine, though all of Tuesday was enmeshed in this feeling. This feeling has been gone since.

Now it's back. I think this is the feeling I had two-and-a-half years ago, before I left for Arizona. I had several months of waiting before my departure. I had to bide my time as I counted down the months, weeks, and days before I could attempt to find myself at age twenty and five.

If this is the same feeling it must be a form of anxiety exerting itself as I finish grading for the semester, meaning I have nearly a month of wanton free time. I have plenty of things to do over the next month, but it seems my body wants me to travel. To take to the road and disappear. If only... Maybe it's really my mind. I think so. It dislikes this...static feeling.

If Charlie felt infinite, then I feel so finite.

Fuck...