Sleepless

I am sleepless mostly, I mean, until I am exausted. Staying up all night doing god knows what- tonight, last night, I drank with friends thinking it would let me sleep... instead it kept me up with them until late, I think I got a little shut-eye but then suddenly I was realizing something spilled on my iphone and it's all flashing white and now wont turn on. Just my luck. I don't even believe in luck. Honestly, I know I did it to myself. Carelessness. Negative thinking. Now I'm wondering who is up at this hour, and surely, mostly, I am not. Except lately. Staying up all night, sleeping all day. I'm tired and wondering, should I stay up? I don't want to anymore but maybe it's the right choice. Sweet sleep, sweet rest- rest from my mind, the ever wondering and planning, worrying and dreaming. Nothing seems right, as if I'm just waiting for the new year, to start new and be done with whatever I've done this year. Wandering, trying to figure shit out. What will be the purpose of 2011? What will be my new goals? Certainly graduating in May. God, so many obstacles in my way- how will I pay rent? How will I eat? Food, now there's a luxury... It's funny because I feel so good in my new room, all burgundy perfect (it's called "bohemian red" how fitting) and my raised futon with all my summer clothes stored underneath and my draping sheer canopy to make me feel like a princess. The littlest princess. And I'm proud of my bookshelf, all sporting Jane Eyre and Vonnegut and, shit, a tattered Bible that's not mine but I find beautiful. A friend yesterday, who had never seen my room (and no one has seen my room look like I want it to, until lately) says "just as I imagine and artist's room to look like" and I like this idea of me, an artist.

So strange... to think of myself as an artist. a Photographer. I think I like artist better but I wonder how pretentious it is to call myself either of those things, and I don't think I've earned it yet.

yet.