Sleepless in the summer

Unable to sleep I go for a run. It’s 8:53 in the AM. As I run I hear the crows caw their support as though cheering for Rocky as he races up the stairs. Sadistry aside, I smell breakfast eggs. The sound of a truck gathers my attention as I realise I made up the word sadistry.

The autocorrect on my phone, as I typed it, had nothing to offer. I’m typing as I’m thinking as I’m not really running. I’m at home, positioned precisely in the centre of the mattress as though aligned using a popular graphic design tool that rhymes with Kyotoprop. I’m not mentioning the name because this is not a sponsored write-up.

I look up and see the fan doing the best it can to stop me from sweating. But little does it know that sweaty palms can’t be dried by a ceiling fan. Maybe it can, I haven’t really tried it. And the palm sweat was just a device to talk about what I’m feeling on the inside. Right now the only thing in my palms is my cell phone on which I type this masterpiece. It’s accompanied by the pain in my fingers that are caused by either the change of phone cover or the fact that I haven’t slept all night.

As the rev of the motorcycle gets me back to writing after a 5-second break from typing, I type fun instead of from and then change it back to fun because this exercise maybe be fun but the word I was looking for is from. Phew.

I read what I’ve written, and get back to typing. I hear a lot of sounds that distract me one-by-one from the previous sound. Like the sound of flowing water distracts me from the sound of the vehicles passing by which distracted me from the sound of the ceiling fan which distracted me from the sound of people talking below the building. Every sound was thrown out of the window when my phone vibrated and emitted a notification tone that sounds like an ancient Zambian mating call. Sound autocorrected to Sunday as though to tell me I’ve been throwing Sundays out of the window. Zambian, that was previously African, had changed to Asian because I can’t even get borderline racist without Google’s intervention.

I forgot the point I was going to lead to as my head throbs fun lack of sleep and photosensitivity from the sun. Again from autocorrects to fun as if there’s a term called photosensitivity fun. Again from changed to fun. Again from changed to fun. I realise there is another from replaced by fun, but I don’t change it as this will put you off if you’re really paying attention. It could also make you scroll up if you missed it.

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