By-Two Kaapi in an oilfield

1am in the night. Insomnia strikes back. Stare at the ceiling. Roll-over. Stare at the walls. Roll-over again. Kick your legs. Close your eyes with wretched intensity. No sleep. Make shadows with your hands. Act as if you're wailing. No sleep yet. The watch shows 3am. Curse. Swear. Cry.

Its 8am. Shit. Shove that toothbrush in your mouth. Shake it. Rinse. Open that new deo bottle. Create graffiti over your body using it. Put on a new pair of clothes. Rush to that bus which stinks of dog urine. Sit next to the window. Hear more curses. Curse yourself that you haven't earned enough to buy an iPod. Reach office. Get a cup of nirvana - a piping hot cappucino. Make Jim Morrison convince you that it is The End.

What ran in the head all the while? Frustration. At the lack of achievement.

At the end of the day,
Is it pain that you feel, or is it guilt?

PS. The last line is heavily influenced by The Interpreter of Maladies.