SLEEP, WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO?

Lately I find myself up at some ungodly hours wondering why my eyes won't close. I thought I had an issue given my addiction to caffeine but that could not be it at all. I stopped drinking soda and anything containing caffeine in an effort to improve my sleep issues but I still fail to close my eyes successfully.
I tried counting sheep but nothing seems to help me at all.

I think sleep must hate my guts or it must love me so much it choses to stay away. I think my relationship with sleep is like an unhealthy coupling of sorts. Sleep is like that girlfriend that is great in bed but frigid most of the time. I call sleep and it's like calling someone that just doesn't like me. When things are okay sleep and I get along well and I have two or three good days but then suddenly I am eating shit again.

I think sleep is a fickle and angry lady that just isn't satisfied with a lobster dinner and some wine. I think sleep wants to take my essence in what I consider to be a ridiculously unhealthy relationship. I can't break up with sleep because I need it and it won't break up with me because it's such a spiteful bitch.

THE FUCKER IN THE BACK ROW

I love going to the movies but I really hate a lot of the people that also partake in said activity. I think it's safe to say that there are sections or groups that are certain to go to a movie theatre ready to really mess your day up just by virtue of their existence. Let me further elaborate on what I am trying to state here.

When you arrive at the box office the line is full of the visibly shitty crowd and it goes in a specific order. Toward the back you have a few punks that think they are tough thug like beings. Closer to the front you have the the four teen girls that look like prostitutes in training wearing clothes that reveal mosquito bite cleavage, lack of guidance, and no ass at all. As you scan it toward the front there is the family comprised of something like 5 kids all of them with ADD and a marriage composed of a two beings that despise one another.

While moving up it's easy to spot the senior citizens asking for a discount, popcorn refills, a low salt menu and a fucking map to the nearest bathroom. Once you get the tickets you get in line to pay at least 100 dollars for a small box of Nestle Snow Caps and some Gummy Bears that will be gone before the movie even starts. On the way to the theatre you go to the bathroom and have to wait for the kid having diarrhea and crying because his poops look like coca cola.

When you get to the theatre you sit and see the people coming in and settle down. Slowly but surely you realize you are in for a pre show as the teen bitches text, the family argues and the thugs terrorize the senior citizens. With this fabulous mix you at the kid that already has a sever case of the shits and you realize this may not be what you'd hoped for in terms of entertainment. When the movie starts the asshole in the back row starts kicking your seat, farting, and laughing loudly.

I think that is the worst part of the whole experience, the back fucking row. The ass, or wildcard is there ready to fuck up your life. For the next 90 to 120 minutes you dream of ways to kill this person's soul and desire for living only to later realize that your life was significantly shortened by one person's massive case of asshole. Yes I hate the fucker in the back row but for the sake of my sanity I have learned to tolerate him and I suggest others do the same for their enjoyment.

STARS IN DARK SKIES

One night after a righteous cocaine nose job a man stepped out into the dark. As the man looked around  he saw nothing but darkness. The only light that shined on his conscious mind and physical presence  was that light provided by the stars in the night sky. There was emptiness and silence, the man's mind was a kaleidoscope without color. The little bits and pieces in the man's mind that created the different forms and figures were in black and white with no areas forming any sort of illusions.

As the man walked he found himself getting closer to the stars. The man was not fully aware of reality so he could not tell if this was a hallucination. There was no noise in the background and the black sport coat and white shirt he wore could not shield him from the cold. As the man walked it seemed as if he were moving slowly up an escalator.

The stars shined brighter and became bigger and bigger as he went further and further up the celestial pathway. The famous lights were shinning and the man thought he was dead or close to it. The man was looking around and wondering if this was the end. As he looked around he became more and more confused. The man's skin wrinkled while keeping it's well tanned complexion. The man saw a drink materialize in his hand and started seeing mirrors form in the stars.

The man's hair turned grey right before him and he could see it. Each mirror seemed to illustrate something he could not see or feel. The images were still photographs of his own life as it slipped into the stars slowly. Suddenly without warning the man saw an explosion of light that appeared ready to engulf him. With great fear the man covered himself ready for the worst.

The man awoke in a field and saw himself surrounded by people looking in worst condition than him. The man saw fear, he saw panic and he saw a bright light. The man saw that explosion that had engulfed him and arose ready to walk on. The night had taken him into dark skies but the stars had given him a new life.