Last night it took me three hours to fall asleep and it was awful, but that's what I get for kicking my circadian rhythm out of wack by staying up until 7am Saturday. And the deal with that is I went to Malate late Friday night/early Saturday morning. Or tried to at least, because somewhere betwen deciding to partay and actually partaying I got off at the wrong stop and got lost. I had been intending to take a walking tour of Manila but doing it alone at 3am is not what I had in mind. I did find Nakpil Street and the familiar O-bar but the night sky was beginning to take on that lighter hue of almost-dawn by then so I found myself a street corner and stood there and watched. It felt strange to just stand there and not do anything, and I kept on thinking that someone was bound to notice me and think I was weird. Hell, even if no one did notice, I thought I was weird. But some sick, compulsive, drive in me kept me rooted to that spot until the sun finally came out and it was time to go home.
I lay awake last night to the tune of so many random second voices in my head. I have AD/HD and when I can't move spatially I do it temporally. My second voice just wouldn't shut up and I remembered the Magus' advice to Brida so I let them ramble on and on about how I would take up ballet (which would be the gayest thing ever, but so what, I *am* gay) and move to New York, how I would study psychology and be a clinical psychiatrist and make tons of money listening to rich kids (and maybe sleep with the hot ones too), how I would soon be moving to a new condo and what furniture I would need to buy, how I missed Andriy and what if I told him I loved him (I didn't, but that doesn't matter), etc.
I finally dozed off like really late probably, because I had the hardest time getting myself out of bed this morning. I had to rush through my morning ritual I forgot to take my vitamins and brush my hair probably. I also had to skip my usual trip to the bakery. And I still arrived at work late. Hay.