what is this? i am insane. i’m either a magnificent writer or a terribly confused, sleep-deprived teen who thinks she can turn a phrase. 
i like feeling tired.. over-tired.
i like feeling like i need to sleep.
my eyes feel like a camera lens and i can focus on everything, maybe too much.
i wish i could see the world like this all the time.
the best part about staying up all night is when you finally drop to your bed. i like going to bed, sleeping the day away and dreaming endlessly the best kind of dreams.
i’m perfectly happy with how easily words flow out of me this early in the morning or this late at night. sleepless nights, beautiful words. 
i’m destined to be a tortured, sleepless artist or writer, throwing my art across the world at funny hours with horrible sleep patterns and coffee stained paper. my fragile body cannot handle its caffeine. 
the sun’s rising. the street lights still light up the streets but bits of bright blue sky peek out of the darkness. my eyes are heavy and i really should sleep but i must get all dolled up to pretend like i give a shit about my education. 
i stayed up last night looking at photography and doing my laundry. freshly cleaned clothes feel so good against the skin- and in sleepy skin, it’s like rolling into a sleeping bag of hibernation. i’m a hibernating bear for the winter. i’ll see you in the spring. what am i doing? what is this? why. 
goodnight. good morning.