copyright Laurita Small 2009
copyright Laurita Small 2009

04:00 [GMT+1] I have twelve monkeys running through my head. They run around all day, making me really dizzy and sleepy. After twelve at night they settle down for about twelve minutes after which twelve monkeys pace through my head thinking out loud. I have received so much advice on how to shut them up, that the twelve monkeys in my head have become twelve times dizzy, knocking into all my other healthy thoughts drunkenly, knocking things over twelve at a time, making me grouchy. These twelve monkeys are not bad monkeys. If only they would get in twelve hours of sleep when I close my eyes, it would give me twelve minutes to pray, twelve minutes to doze and at least leave me be for a few hours sleep at night, when all is quiet and all is dark. In the morning I would have twelve minutes to wake up, twelve to drink coffee, twelve to brush my teeth, wash my face, look in the mirror. Twelve to check my e-mail and twelve to reply before these twelve monkeys make their rowdy awakening plunging into my quiet with twelve loud yawns. Now there are twelve monkeys having a party next door, twelve monkeys pacing in my head jumping on all twelve my remaining nerves.

 I have gone to bed just before twelve, turned the light out at just past twelve and lay awake staring off into the dark space in front of me. Initially I was really hopeful. After a dinner with friends at a Korean restaurant, I came home exhausted from too little sleep the night before, and a little drunk on good company. I settled in my bed, nestling into the covers. I spent some time unwinding, some time praying, some time hoping the next door party would end. Then I spent about two minutes to send an sms I forgot about before I settled back into my man-made cocoon, only to realise that nature was calling me from the loo, then my feet needed warming, my nose needed blowing and before I knew it I was lying wide awake in bed listening to the rowdy kids next door revving their parents cars in front of our house….in front of my window…next to my head. I was rather grateful that they had put out the fire they started and at least Billy Jean had also lost some speed. 

Desperate to get the job done I started following a friend’s advice. To think over everything that happened in the day and try to remember all the details. Usually I don’t get much further than breakfast, but before I knew it, it was 03:30 am and I had catalogued my entire day. Then I got restless, pulled out my cellphone headphones and listened to some radio on my phone in the dark. This seemed to work…I was getting reeeeeeeaaaally sleepy…but then a really old song came on and I started wondering what the quality of the stored music on my phone would be like when played through proper speakers. U2 made me cry, Apple Bottom Jeans switched the light on and before I knew it I was re-living my flamenco years on Tamacun with the dog staring at me from under her own blanket. I think she is fed up of these random nocturnal festivities as well. 

Now…please don’t over-quote me on those twelve monkeys (Its a metaphor). The film was on TV tonight. Michael Jackson died yesterday (or the day before?), hence the RIP party next door. My super-hero saga is taking some scary twists and my parents are worried about me not being married, on top of which I’m moving to Asia. You could say I’m under unusual stress. Lets just hold thumbs that the monkeys starve, that my hair will grow, and that all these weird wacky nights will tie up into an exquisite masterpiece of a script or a film or a story or at least just one nice dream which will confirm that I had one nice night of sleep at night while its dark and all is quiet and Billy Jean can finally be put to bed in her brand new diamond CD case.

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