Contemplative

Tossing and turning in bed, it was silent, dark, unmoving. Eyelids were already screaming to close and get some rest, but none such reprieve. As I fumbled for the tv remote control, I realised for n-th night since coming back to Shanghai, sleep would evade me unless I heard some voices from some random dvd played; conversing in their Americanish lilt, while it ushered Mr. Sandman into my dreams.

This strange sleeplessness that has come over me, where did it come from? Was it all the talk about plans and dreams that has made me willingly seduced by wanderlust? Was it all the worrying about other people lives, hoping they don't choose something that will make them unhappy? Was it just procrastinating the protesting, unwashed dishes in the sink? Or quite simply, bloody PMS?

Don't get me wrong, am neither unhappy nor discontented. Far from that. Just not feeling as lighthearted as I normally am. A little listless, a little missing something. I just wish I knew what.