Not an Oracle

Insomnia. She's an evil mistress. I thought I had succeeded in abolishing these debilitating bouts of sleeplessness that had haunted me in the past. I thought I had finally gotten myself in to a normal routine where sleep was not something I both desperately craved and feared at the same time. However, this turned out not to be the case.

She returned a few nights ago.

Good old insomnia.

I lay there for hours and hours on end recalling all the tricks of the trade that you can utilise in an attempt to try and quiet a restless mind. I counted. I meditated. I tried to empty my brain of all thoughts. I got up and paced frantically around the room. I tried to read a book. I tried to listen to music but alas the concept of sweet slumber appeared to be nothing more than a fallacy. I guess the one good thing about not being able to sleep is that it frees up some time to do some work. So last night in the small hours, I tackled doing some editing work. For the most part, it served useful despite the fact that I was still anxiously cursing my body for not allowing me to sleep during the process. I'm always asking for more hours in the day but I would also like to sleep.

I thought it was time for a Blog overhaul. Part of me wanted to go through all the entries from the past couple of years and delete them. There was an urgent need to wipe the slate clean and start afresh. Nonetheless, I resisted the urge and I decided to let them reside here for now; there's no harm in leaving them outside and allowing them to breathe for a while longer. A persistent niggling urge still summoned me to change something though, so I toyed around with several different formats and themes and eventually settled on this current one for the time being.

I also changed the name.

I dug a little hole and buried 'Ouija Disco'. It didn't serve a purpose anymore and I settled on the name: 'Not an Oracle'. An obvious statement one might conclude. I'm also not a professional advice-giver, psychologist or animal trainer. I'm merely a thirty year old man who thinks way too much. Both a curse and a blessing but I've gotten used to its prickly grasp. I'm not sure what use this minor modification will have but sometimes it's nice to embrace a little change, shake the sheets, blow the dust, rearrange the furniture. So for now, 'Ouija Disco' lies in a tiny make-shift grave just outside my bedroom window. The beauty of graves however, is that they can always be dug up again...