When I was little there was nothing to give me more scared to be awake when everyone was asleep. In fact, for years my mother forced to leave the room light on, not because he was afraid of the dark, but because and knew that at some point she would have to lift off, and that was the best guarantee we could get that was still awake as I was. I know that was a pretty fucking method, especially when my mother thought I would already be asleep, he came to power off, and I yelled "nooo mommy, I'm awake!", But what you will, is in my nature. My father never understood this, or at least pretended not to understand, and one day put an outlet on those who decide alone what time it is switched on or off things. It knows everything. I will bitch, but he has not beaten anyone.
remember the day finally overcame that fear. It was during Christmas holidays. I must have been about 10 years ago. Was tucked in bed, eagerly devouring the end of "Northern Lights" by Phillip Pullman (to read the book that I remember as a young man had a capacity to retain irrelevant data was not normal). The fact is that suddenly looked at the time it was, and my clock radio Grundig 3:30 am probably marked the previous day had overwhelmed me, would have turned off the light and tried to sleep as quickly as possible. I would even have prayed a loads of Our Fathers, because my grandmother told me once that if I could not sleep I had to do was pray until you get. It never worked very well. My mind wanders easily from any repetitive task. But that cold day in early January, I did not care. I got up, went to the kitchen, drank water, went back to bed and kept reading until I finished the book.
And since that day, my subconscious has been determined to drag the chaos zone, but a series of external circumstances have prevented me. Among these include the classes in the mornings and a mother to eleven-thirty and was saying, "childish, when are you going to go to sleep? It's too late ..." (This is followed by if you see me floating around out there).
The laptop was the beginning of change, to provide me with endless entertainment without having to prove he was awakened by my presence in the room.
Erasmus year was the final impetus. For ten months, my mother did not know if I was awake or not more than during the times of telephone calls I decided to give. And there was virtually no lag or serious obligation.
But this year came into my life the evening shift. And I went into a potentially self-destructive spiral that I do not know when it will end. I have no timetable to eat or sleeping. In fact, today I woke up at half past one, I had breakfast, ate at seven, dined at one and are now almost five and I'm writing this and listening to a considerable volume "Love of the Loveless" by Eels, while I think to get a second dinner, or a predesayuno. For even I have the typical noise problems with neighbors. There is nobody around me. I tried to sing loudly, and nobody has complained. Even before he had a brother in the next room, but his strange decision to study pharmacy has been living in a dorm rigidly Opus, and I have been released two years I lost.
Like night. I like the darkness and silence. I like quiet. Sometimes I even like the solitude. I think I'll go on living without even a long term schedule.
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