Selah // Something Witty

Everything changed me.

Date: 12.05.17 -- Day 65
Music: "Love In The Dark" / Leroy Sanchez (Adele Cover) - Kyle Hanagami Choreography

This choreography gets me every time. It's beautiful and heartbreaking and captures so much emotion. The cover of this song is wonderful too. Not that Adele's version isn't good. There's just something about Leroy's version that captures more of the gut-punch feelings that the song speaks to. I'm in that kind of mood, so this song hits all the notes I need right now.

My sleeping issues have hit an intriguing new low. Sleep deprivation and I are old drinking buddies, you see. Sleep and I are barely on talking terms, so sleep deprivation keeps me company while I wait for sleep to come back around. One of these day we'll make up. Maybe. The feud has been going over twenty years, but I have faith we'll come to some sort arrangement or, you know, I'll end up dead. But the new thing to swing into town is sleep paralysis; this is probably as close to my worst fear of being forever trapped in my body, fully aware, without the ability to move, I'll ever get and I'm completely okay with that. Not one to stick around, it seems that sleep paralysis might be here to stay for a while. Last night, it even came to visit. Three times no less. Cannot say that I am extremely thrilled although I'm not surprised. I've been in a pit a stress for a while and that toll is finally manifesting in my body. And pain has been something out of this world that past week. Tear-inducing, I'm seeing stars, kind of pain.

Mondays, man.

I'm getting closer and closer to setting my NaNo (metaphorically) on fire. This would equate to me deleting everything but my notes and starting fresh. I've been sleeping (har har) on the drastic idea for a few days now as I didn't feel like I was in the right mind space to completely cut ties come December 1st. Honestly, having thought about, I really don't think I would have any regrets just trashing the whole thing. It's nice to know that I have 50,848 words in me, and that I can write them in a month. However, I don't want these particular 50,848 words with me any longer. They feel like an anchor weighing me down in tumultuous waters. If I'm going to drown in a wine dark sea that is writing, I want it to be a different ocean entirely than the one I created, if that makes sense.

Little sleep. Hypercritical. Sad songs. Petrified. About ready to throw everything in the garbage. That sounds like as good of a start to the first week of December as any.