Nocturnal Dreams

I shouldn't be writing.

No. I should be writing. Just not in here.

I should be writing my thesis instead of blogging. My thesis that is due in... let's say too soon.

But insomnia took hold of me last night, keeping me awake until the birds started chirping again, which is, for the love of God, way too early these days.
04.13 in the morning to be precise.

A thousand thoughts crossed my mind, one synapse firing off after the other, giving me a hard time to focus on anything besides desperately trying to fall asleep. To no avail.

1am.
Reading seems like a great idea. I recently decided to finally reread Faust Part I, my favourite play throughout highschool, but even Goethe's 200 year old verses didn't work wonders tonight. Neither did the dates and statistical numbers about Alexander the Great I absorbed for a good 30 minutes from the history mag lying next to my bed. Bummer.

2am.
The thunderstorm outside has decided to go full throttle, lightning lighting up my bedroom every other second, making me feel like being trapped in the beam of a strobe light in a dingy 90s teckkno/house club. Luckily without the matching soundtrack. Goethe's last words are said to have been 'More light'. 'Less light' should have been my last words or thoughts for tonight before falling asleep. Well, didn't happen.

3am.
It's about 27° C in here and I can't open the window to let in the fresh breeze the thunderstorm brought along. Can't because of the big fat black spider that besieges my window frame the second the sun sets. My love for animals stops at the point spiders decide it's gonna be a great idea to be my new roommates. And tonight's not the time to chase them with the handy glass-and-postcard-spider-trap just to get them out of my bedroom again, so the window stays closed.

Music then. Food for the soul. Substitute for love.

It's been a Thees Uhlmann kind of day, so I put 'Römer am Ende Roms' on. Turns out listening to songs you can actually sing along to doesn't help falling asleep either.
I should have known. 

Suddenly 'One night in Bangkok' pops up. In my case it was ten nights in Bangkok. The recent events in Thailand bring back memories from 2010 when I unexpectedly ended up in the middle of a Redshirt demonstration next to Chatuchak weekend market. Banners with characters you can't decipher surrounding you, demanding political changes you only barely have an idea about. The general culture shock, although I don't like calling it a shock, it's rather a different, new and refreshing change of perspectives, too overwhelming to deal with such delicate political issues in detail while being on vacation, even if you could somehow feel that something significant was going to happen soon. I got out just in time. Subvarnabhumi Airport was being partially occupied by Redshirts a few days after I got back home. There are pictures of me at the plaza in front of Central World, which burned down only a few weeks later as a result of the uprising protests. Moments in time.

Wanderlust strikes again. Once this dreadful thesis is handed in, all I wanna do is hop on a plane and get out of here. Free my mind. Mid-August maybe, only a week or two, just inbetween all those wedding ceremonies.
Yeah, wishful thinking.
I need to get my mind off of traveling, desired destinations, airfares, and finally find some sleep.

4am.
Birds.

I must have fallen asleep at some point.

7am.
The alarm goes off and for some weird reason I feel wide awake, resfreshed. Still being driven by too many things to ponder about, but at least I can somehow phrase them now. Put words into action, or something like that. Whatever.
About time to get some work done.
50 something pages to go.
I really gotta stop writing now.

To keep on writing.