Thursday, March 18, 2010

psychosis psychiatrics psoriasis

I feel psychic today. I couldn't sleep well last night, despite having a long day (of St. Patty's Day celebrations, not the work kind) and being extremely tired well before getting into bed. I saw a cockroach in the bathroom, which may have had something to do with it. It was one of the few situations that made me very glad that my bathroom is outside on the balcony. I spent the next couple hours trying to figure out how to think about nothing, wondering whether you can think in different decibels (I decided you can), and debating the possibility of spraying RAID all over the sink. I don't know why I've always had trouble falling asleep. Granted, I don't exercise, but I can think of many people who don't exercise and still manage to sleep like normal people. I feel like my sleeping is a lot like my crying... I have no control over either. There are definitely times I will suddenly have this wave rush over me and I'm completely asleep by 9 PM- this is just about as common as the opposite, when it'll be 3 AM and I can't sleep for the life of me, even when my eyes are closed and still tired. When I do fall asleep though, I have an uncanny ability to sleep for exactly 8 hours a night. I've never really needed alarm clocks, because I tend to wake up literally five minutes before it'd go off. This internal clock of mine makes me wary. More recently, I've been ruining it... whereas I used to be able to throw off my sheets and jump into the shower in one go, I've become more of a snoozer. I even have a bottle of Nyquil near me that I chug on really off nights. I realize none of this is helping the situation.

In general, I don't sleep enough. But that's usually because I can always think of something better to do. I'm in the middle of Marilynne Robinson's Gilead and it's slowly becoming this essential part of my life- my fifteen minute class breaks, my waits at the bus stop, balancing it on my lap during lunch... but then I suddenly become scared that I'll finish it too quickly, so I'll put it down and instead read the critical praise. It's made me think back to the other books, movies, and songs that have had a similar effect on me. I feel like everyone has those few picks that are so essentially them. As if you could have written it, or it was in you to begin with and suddenly someone sang it or wrote it for you. When I was eleven or twelve, I loved The House on Mango Street. I've lost count how many times I read that back then. I probably haven't read it since I was fifteen or so, but I still have a lot of the stories memorized, like the part where a girl says the number of white specks on your fingernails are the number of boys thinking about you. What else falls into this category for me? Janes Says, by Jane's Addiction. Some Song, by Elliott Smith. Naomi by NMH. Velvet Goldmine and Chungking Express, for movies. The Things They Carried. Jitterbug Perfume. These are all random, really. There aren't very many, either. Just a few that have meant a lot to me for some reason or other. I'm sure I could think of more if I took the time.

Well, one of these songs for me is Thirteen, by Big Star. I've heard a lot of covers, but I've always thought Big Star's original is the best. But I had certain sad memories attached to it for the last year and a half or so, so I haven't really listened to it in awhile. But then last night as I half-slept, it crept back in there and I woke up humming along. I couldn't get it out of my head so I went on to hypem.com and whaddaya know, there it was on the default page as one of the most buzzed about songs! I thought this was odd, and upon typing in the song name, found that many more people posted it just in the last day. As it turns out, the lead singer of Big Star just died yesterday, which must've been around the same time it got into my head. Strange, huh? I love coincidences like this. I remember Murakami writing about coincidences once, like how his favorite jazz musician played his one favorite song at the end of a concert. I guess they happen more often than you'd expect. But I'm going to keep thinking I'm just a little bit psychic.

and for the tl;dr: pick up Robinson's Gilead