insomnia

I went to sleep around midnight, I think. I eagerly anticipated sleeping as long as I wanted to, anticipated waking up sometime in the morning by semi-reflex, then being happy it's a weekend and going back to sleep.

Instead, I woke up around four in the morning and can't get back to sleep. Fuck.

Maybe I'll work on this self-portrait some. Or I could take a shower and dye my hair - the purple is fading to an off-pink.

I feel like there's something I want to say, something I want to do, that's too important to articulate. I feel weird and constrained from no weekend last week; twelve days straight having to put on my public persona and go out on the bus with no time to sit around and be myself is wearying.

I'm lonely, for one thing. All my friends are virtual nowadays. It's wearing me thin.

*sigh* I'll try going to sleep again now. Bleh. I hate this. Too tired to do anything with this dead-time consciousness.

(no subject)

Dying my hair again.

Bluegirls come in every size.
Some are wise and some otherwise
They got pretty blue eyes.
For an hour a man may change;
for an hour her face looks strange,
looks strange, looks strange.
- Genesis, "Ripples"

When doing things to my hair, I pull out my old glasses. I don't want to get my nice new ones all gunged up with hair dye and bleach, but I need to be able to sort of see. It's a weird sensation to pick up the old ones and put them on because they're so heavy - just holding them in my hand, they're much more massive, pulling my hand down more than I now expect glasses to do. And they cover so much of my face. I look like a different person with them on... I barely recognize myself.

Funny how such a small change can be so noticeable.