Counting Sheep

G-Am..no , no, Bm…G..argh… Better get some sleep. But that’s the thing, I can’t sleep.

Whenever sleep shuns me, this is what I do. Hum, strum my guitar, write a song, scribble, and then put notes to it. Or I may have a melody in mind, and then I put words on it. Kinda scares me though. If I’d be like this for the rest of my life, I may be in trouble. I’m gonna have eye bags the size of pingpong balls. Then I couldn’t put my sunglasses on…then people would call me Squidward or Bart. Squidwards better. Then I’m gonna have a hard time putting on liquid eyeliner. It would take hours. And I have to buy tons of concealers  just to cover it up. Or I could put giant sized cucumbers every morning when I wake up. That’s if I sleep of course. But that’ the problem, I couldn’t sleep. . I’m gonna have eye bags the size of pingpong balls. Then I couldn’t put my sunglasses on…then people would call me…Wait, I’ve said that already…

You know that’s the big problem with not being able to sleep. You think too much. You put alota things in your head. Crazy stuff. Weird stuff. Like thinking of getting a nose job, or going to Kazakhstan for  a retreat or reminisce. Argh…I hate the last one. I hate thinking of what used to be. I hate thinking of people and how they were. I hate going through all those past sequences and dissecting each little thing. What went wrong or what should’ve been done. The happy stuff.  The painful stuff. Makes me wanna go out and drink. But I hate drinking now. Alcohol makes you do awful things that you’d just regret.

So this is what I do instead, strum, hum, write a song, put melodies to it, or I have a melody in mind, then I’d put words on it. Oh did I say that a while back? This is BS, I need a drink…a big cup of warm milk tea would do the trick. I hope.