Sleeping has been the most sought after treasure for the past month or so.

Lately I’m deprived of good night’s sleep. In fact it’s been several months. And it’s finally taking a toll. In hinder sight the last two months have been quite stressful for the people around and me me. Mostly my colleagues. And that’s only the small part of the iceberg. My back has been menacing me a lot. Whenever I try to roll over it just snap or something and the excruciating pain ensues.

A few years ago I went through a full-blown sleep study and had diagnosed my self with self inflicted sleep apnea. So I sought to find out what could cause it. And just remembered that I’m in menopause. I think I’ve good diagnostic skill.

So now I’m using some machine with a gas mask which I wear whenever I go to sleep. It was believed to let air move around freely, so I won’t stop breathing and wake up in the middle of the night.
But the whole thing isn’t work well.

The doctor who prescribed the machine to me also gave me some sleep medication to take so I can supplement the machine with. The pills and the machine worked well for sometime but now both are defunct ways to remedy my sleep deprivation. I think my sleep problem got to do with me becoming so tired of all the things around me.

No medication is going to get me rid of my sleep problem. I just need to take every possible opportunity and try and sleep.

A pot full of life

For some hazy reason, the idea of reggae music and life style has always appealed to me. It confers some kind of alternative creed, some kind of second universe. Since I was a kid I always told my self that I would get stoned every day and be a dreadlocks and every thing else when I grow up. And now finally I grow up and became stoned and make myself dreadlocks and everything else reggae music and lifestyle have asked me for. All this is fine if I were to really grow up, you know, becoming all-responsible and taking nothing for granted but my self only and all those kind of boring things grown-ups should make themselves believe in. But what do you I forgot all of that. In fact I never grow up at all but stayed stoned since I was 17 (I’m now 34). And the weird part in all this is I love it.


I love it in a sense that the pot I smoked all those years has made me a unique creature in the whole human species. I don’t give much thought about sex, love, starting a family, not being able to get over my break ups, and all that sh@$#t. I’m actually free from head to toe. When I look back to those prime times in my life and all the things people have been telling me to do in life, I always laugh. They told me not to smoke pot, to listen to my feelings (meaning crying like a baby when I break up with my girl friend) and all those morals.

But I didn’t listen. Instead of quitting pot I started smoking it more often. Instead of listening to my feelings I make others listen them for me. And now those who thought I’m a failure at my age feels bad about me. By default I should be the one to feel miserable at my own debacles in life. So I think I came out victorious in a way that I made people become a “server” for my feelings. Now every time they see me they feel sorry for me and relieve me of the burden I would carry if I were to listen to my feelings in early ages, i.e feeling sorry for my self.

Pot or no pot, take advantage of life and all the things around you.
Never listen to what others say. Instead make them carry your baggage full of feelings for you.
Twist them and their pre - controlled life to your advantage.

There you’ve it for now.