When you fuck with sleep, everything turns into an experiment. How little can I sleep before I start to see things? How much caffiene can I have before I get heart palpitations? Simple office lights start to feel like a lab, glaring and unkind, compared to the dark world outside. Night and Day turn to Sleep and Wake cycles, increasingly indistinguishable. The depths of night lose their sacred status as the time for dreams and take on new, stranger meanings.

I don't miss graveyard shift. The last few days, I've been covering one of my employee's shifts. It is a small recap to the times when I was sleeping four hours a day, when the whole world felt like a hallucination, punctuated with moments of blistering clarity, which in retrospect, were probably delusional epiphanies. Theories and philosophies formed and disintegrated over the course of nights.

I would like very much not to fuck with my sleep, for a while.

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