I stay up late again. 

      I thought I would fall asleep in a sec but I do not.

      When everything is back to silence, I take a deep breath and start to counting sheep.

      I get a headache.

      My heart beats fast.

      Noise buzzes around, I don't like it.

   So I cover my ears with my sweaty hands and wish an acquires a sec of quietness.

    But there is a louder sound rushes into my ears when my ears are covered. This is a placid and flowing sound, just like what I hear when I drown myself in the ocean.

      I am back to peace.

    I gradually forget my body parts, the consciousness of my body is losing little by little. 

    The only parts I can feel are my back and knees. They fit smoothly with the bed sheet and comfort, just like abalones gobble up the rocks.

    Finger tips convulse. They are as sensitive as corals. Which mollusks sentimentally pesters my fingers? I have lost the energy to find that out.  

​    I am sweating.

    It seems like my brain is back to work, but I cannot move my body. 

    My body is like the mud in a lotus pond; I can't move, feel cold, and have no vitality. 

    Then I close my eyes to let the blasted mud irrigate my brain.

    I get a floral dream, but I feel the pain because birds twitter exuberantly around 4 am. They peck my remiss Woodworm and bring me back to reality.

    My dream cracks. I am grabbed into fall from spring days.

    I try to keep sleeping, but I cannot ignore the tweedle outside. I try to lie to myself by assuming that I never wake up this night, but I am unable to go back to the same dream again.

    Sleeping hours are not long enough; I am still sleepy. But tomorrow is going to be a nighty night.