Stay Awake Or Else

What fascinating intrigues of night and day detain me in this reality of space and time and work and words and serious things that seem absurd. It's bedtime. Again. Instead I'm... awake. Till 10. Till 12. 1, 2, 3, 4. There are more sheep than people in New Zealand. Force is mass times acceleration. The mortal coil can kiss my ass. I'm ripe. I'm due. Sleep, where are you? It's late. And I hate lying here like a fool of a fetus examining my eyelids. I have better things to not be doing. I think all my favorite thoughts again for the third time until everything is watermelons and capture the pig and damn ok here we go SNORRRRRRRR!!!