can't get it out of my head

And I can't get it out of my head
No I can't get it out of my head
Now my old world is gone for dead
'Cos I can't get it out of my head, no, no.
- Electric Light Orchestra


I slept for 11 hours last night. I went straight to our home, changed clothes, washed my face, wrote in my journal, then, headed to bed. At first, I was only wanting to take a nap for about half an hour, which became an hour, and then an hour and a half, and eventually turned into an 11-hour slumber. I didn't take my dinner, nor did I read a book, watch a movie, or do anything. I just simply slept the entire night. I usually sleep for 5 hours a night, and once a week, I indulge myself in an 8-hour restful night. I figured sleeping for way too long can be very unproductive. But an 11-hour sleep? On a weekday? Not that there was nothing lined up for me to do yesterday. There were piles of unfinished business waiting for my attention. Instead, I chose to be completely counter-productive. Sleeping became a form of personal defense mechanism, an easy way of escape. My brain has been highly contaminated by utmost senseless and stupid thoughts these past few days. No amount of distration could seem to work. And since I simply refuse to be senseless and stupid, I figured sleeping will be much, much better.

Have you ever experienced knowing what is wrong, yet, you still immersed yourself in it? It was like taking a stick of cigarette, with this nagging voice telling you of its danger, yet knowing this piece of shit will satisfy your baseless cravings, simply because you already got used to its immediate lifting effect. You buy yourself a pack or two because you wanted more of it. But no, this craving I have can't be bought, nor can be cured by, say, nicotine gum.

I tried to run away from it, tried to ignore it, only to realize that the reality I was trying to evade was the same reality I was bringing with me wherever I go. You know how those slasher movies go. No matter how fast the victims tried to outrun the creepy morbid maniac, they would always end up being cornered by that monster on the next bend, calmy walking towards them, enjoying the sight of its horrified prey, begging for its mercy. The only difference is, I'm not the victim. And the creepy morbid maniac I was trying to run away from is nothing but my own weaknesses. With this realization, I thought that running away can be pretty exhausting. Sooner or later, I will have to face it anyway. So that was exactly what I did. I admitted to myself every repressed truths, faced the fight with eyes wide open, and let it pass through me. For a while, I thought I succeeded, but the whole time it was only taking a momentary dormancy. Now, it's back with more intensity. No matter how much I keep myself occupied, my thoughts are still stuck to the same rot I was trying to save it from. And oh, how it sucks!

So, since I can't take it off my head, I was left with one more option: to shut my consciousness off by oversleeping. Good thing I haven't had nightmares about it or else I wouldn't know where to take my thoughts anymore. Really, it's nothing major, drastic, disturbing, or life-threatening. Unless I consider taking the next worse step. I just find it unhealthy for steering my brain cells into something worthless, senseless, and stupid. I just want to wake up one day and realize that I'm exhausted from all of this. Then, maybe, I can finally walk away in peace.

-JK-