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I N S O M N I A ((Part I)
By Dark Element
Do you know what it's like to have insomnia? It's the worst thing that has
ever happened to me. I can’t think without going off into my own world.
Am I sane? Am I crazy? Am I alive? Am I dead?
It's 3:01 in the morning. I’m lying in my cold empty apartment, staring at
the red electronic clock. It's sitting on my brown desk I bought at a garage
sale; it’s about a foot from my bed. I have had insomnia for 3 months, now.
The doctors said that I should be mentally dead. I told them I am. When you
look closely into the numbers of the clock, you see the little spaces in the
numbers, now you imagine yourself flying into the clock and flying straight
through it. Your looking around seeing the wires, then, you fly out and back
into your body.
3:02
I look around my room, my green carpet.
Shit.
Brown bed sheets and blanket.
Shit.
The door is to the left, and closet to the right. The doors to the closet
and out into the living room look the same. A lot of the times I get so
zoned-out I can’t remember which door is which.
3:03
In four more hours I go to work. Then, I sit and stare blankly into my desk
until the boss comes, and I pretend to do work. He tells me to go home and
get some sleep. I tell him that if I could sleep, I would.
3:04
My eyes sop blue and droopy, almost like I have black eyes. My teeth are
shiny white, because when I have nothing to do, I brush my teeth.
3:05
Why can't I sleep? I just want two hours of sleep. Just two. That would make
my day.
3:06
The clock is moving faster.
3:07
I haven't slept in three months.
3:08
I'm in pain.
3:09
The doctors won’t help.
3:10
I need help.
I N S O M N I A
Edward Norton
In my world, everything is black.
Brad Pitt
Little people run around trying to be my friends.
Helena Bonham Carter
And I squash them like bugs.
And Morgan Freeman
But this is just in my head, and I need to forget it.
At least, that’s what my psychiatrist tells me...
Directed by David Fincher
Produced by Dark Element
Soundtrack by, THE DUST BROTHERS.........................
So much pain, so very little time.
I'm now at work. And I am staring expressionlessly into my cherry wood desk.
My TPS reports are two inches away. I could be doing those, but I'd rather
just zone out, into my world.
Nobody wants to talk to me; everyone is afraid of me; nothing is helping.
I look around my office, seeing wall, upon wall, upon wall. I work for a
computer software company. I don’t really do anything, I just...........sit.
For you "normal people," zoning out is when you fall into your own mind,
nothing else around you is of any importance, your just swimming in your own
thoughts, you can't help but drool.
It's Thursday, time to go to, my psychiatrist, Dr. Bob.
Bob was a black man. He had gray curly hair, a little bit of a mustache, and
he never really laughed, or smiled.
"So, did you get any sleep last night?"
I layed down in the leather bed, and looked at the ceiling.
With a very soft voice I said:
"No, no sleep."
"Alright, let me just-" Bob was just going into something that he already
talked about.
"Bob, please, I'm paying you two hundred dollars every time I come in here.
I've been coming here for the past two months. I still haven't gotten any
sleep. Please, tell me why I shouldn't walk out that door."
Bob adjusted himself in his seat; I just said something he wasn't expecting.
"Well...um...I think you should stay because you have some serious problems
that need to be worked out. And I think I can help you with…"
I wouldn't even let him finish. I just walked right out.
You lay in bed, until 5 in the morning. You wake up,
stare at the coffee maker as it makes coffee. Then you sit and watch the
morning news. The morning news is always amazing in New York.
"A riot started in Time Square early this morning, the tally: 5 dead, 40
injured. In other news…"
That’s the way it is, nothing new...........Ever.
4:30 in the morning, I'm now watching an info-mercial on a new pasta maker.
Shit.
All you do is add a couple of things in the pasta maker, and it squirts out
its pasta.
Wow.
4:31
I look around my shitty basement apartment, I see my lovely shit kitchen, my
beautiful couch that I bought at Sears, and my 25 inch Panasonic TV.
In the day, my apartment looks green because there’s hardly any lighting,
and when it rains, it makes it even greener.
Right now, its black, nothing lighting it except the TV.
I wonder if Cheers is on?
4:32
This ladies and gents, is insomnia.
4:33
"You want to go where everybody knows your name."
Ah yes, Cheers, the only show I can actually watch.
4:34
I see myself in the TV's reflection when it goes black, just between
commercials, I'm laying on my Sears couch, channel changer in one hand, the
other supporting the pillow that's catching the drool seeping out of my
mouth, while I slowly sink into my thoughts.
Maybe I should get a video game system?
4:35
They look like fun.
4:36
Or maybe I should get a computer. A Dell.
4:37
Jurassic Park is on NBC tomorrow night at 8:00, I can’t miss that.
Shit.
4:38
I’m hungry.
4:39
"Me too."
4:40
What was that?
4:41
"It was me."
4:42
What is going on?
4:43
The room is dark; the clock is moving faster then normal.
4:44
What was that voice?
4:45
It was nothing, I say to myself, probably just sinking into your own
thoughts again.
4:46
Wait, I’m slowly starting to fall asleep. My eyes are shutting.
4:47
My mind is slowly going blank.
4:48
Sleep in 10,9,8,7,6,5,
4:49
…4,3,2,1. I am now sleeping.
Put yourself in my shoes, you've had insomnia for
almost 3 months now. You work at a shitty job; you live in a shitty
apartment, and now your starting to hear voices. What would you do?
The sleep I got Wednesday morning helped me, even if it was only for two
hours. Everything is so much clearer, and I understand.
Before, everything was strange and confusing. Now, it's like I know all, I
am a supreme being.
I was eating a cheese pizza at Tony's Pizza Place. As I bit into the searing
hot cheese and tomato sauce, I looked back at the old, fat, greasy, Mexican
guy in the kitchen that was pissing into a bowl filled with tomato sauce.
And people wonder how they get sick.
I just set the cheesy pizza down, and went across the street to McDonald’s.
As I was sitting in McDonald’s, I looked over at this blonde guy sinking his
teeth into a Double Cheese Burger. He looked up at me, with his mouth full
of dead cow and condiments, and gave a big open mouth smile.
I gave him a weird look and looked away.
Right now, everything is working. Everything is going right. It's like I'm
in control of everything.
I am now sitting on a bus that's taking me back to my apartment. I look
around the bus to see the fellow riders, and there is nobody. And I could
have sworn that when I walked in, the bus was packed full.
I look up at the bus driver; it's the blonde guy from McDonalds. He looks in
his window and gives a big open smile.
"Hi, Jack." He says while turning the bus wildly. I fly around the bus, as
if I'm a cricket shoved into a rolling coke bottle,
"GET ME OFF THIS DAMN THING!" I scream.
"Your the boss." And the bus comes to a screeching halt, at my apartment.
I'm sitting on the floor, as the bus's engine blows out gray steam. The
raindrops hitting the window are the only things you can hear. The bus
driver stands up, looks back at me, and does a cartwheel through the walkway
of the bus.
I'm scared.
He looks around, turning back at the windshield, then quickly turns back
around pointing at me.
"You are Jack. I am David." He says in a soft, calm voice.
"How the hell do you know my name?" I ask.
He sits down on one of the blue plastic seats, and says,
"I need to leave now."
The second he said that, he runs right out of the bus, and down the street.
Psycho.
I stand up from the disgusting floor of the bus, and walk out onto the wet
crowded sidewalk. I put my hand over my eyes, so the rain doesn't disturb my
vision. No sight of him.
Maybe I should go to the police.
The Police said that there was nobody with blonde hair
named, David, that worked for the city bus company; that there was no bus
found in front of my apartment.
I told them that something had happened today, and that there was a guy
named David, that knew my name.
You know what they told me?
"Go home and get some sleep."
I told them that is one thing that I can't do.
As I sat talking to the police officer, I remember how familiar that his
voice sounded. Like I had heard it quite recently.
David? How do I know a David? How the hell did he know me?
The clock in the bar reads 2:12. 56 year-old Joe and I
are the only guys left. I'm sitting silently drinking my long- necked
Icehouse. In my pretty Tommy Hilfiger shirt and tie.
I slowly turn my head over to Joe, and there’s a new guy sitting in the dark
corner of the bar. I can't quite make him out, and the bartender says,
"Hey, buddy, you want a beer?"
The guy starts chewing on his fingernail.
"No, no thanks, I'm good."
The fat slob of a bartender throws the rag he had in his hand into the sink.
"Then why don't you get the fuck out of my bar?!"
The guy stood up into the light, and I recognized him. It was David!
"Hey, no need to get angry Fat Albert, I'm going." Then he started moving
towards me, into the light. "I just gotta take care of some business." He
said.
I looked over to him with a blank, yet horrified, look.
He walked over to me and yanked me off the stool by my shirt. While holding
the back of my blue shirt, he opened the bar door using my head. When we got
outside I noticed that it wasn't raining, and that he was dragging me to his
car. I screamed as loud as I could for help, but nobody was around. He
opened the door, and threw me inside, then slammed the door shut. For the
few seconds that he went around to the other door it was quiet.
I looked in the back and saw a woman. Her hair was jet black, and her
clothes matched. She was thin, and her face was very narrow.
"Don’t worry, he's like this all the time," She said.
David flew the driver’s side door open, and got in. His hair was now black,
and spiked.
"What the hell are you doing!?" I screamed.
"I’m taking you where you belong," David said, "It's time for you to learn
the truth."
I smelt smoke.
David looked in the rearview mirror, "Andrea, what did I tell you about
lighting up in the car?"
I looked behind me and saw the woman lighting a cigarette.
"Fuck you," she replied with an English accent, and then lit the cigarette.
"What the hell are you talking about? Tell me what truth?" I asked.
I am confused.
"Look out that window," he said.
So, I looked out the window, and saw a cab next to us. Then I looked back at
David.
"Yeh? So what? It's a just a fucking cab."
"What’s the car you've always wanted?" He asked.
God, I remember asking my friends that at 14.
"I dint know, a teal Ferrari I guess," I returned.
David smiled, "Look back at the cab,"
I slowly turned my head to look back at the cab. It was now a teal Ferrari.
I quickly turned back at David.
"What the fuck is going on here?" I asked.
David smiled and slammed on the brakes. "Welcome, to your own mind, where
anything you think, is possible."
3/18/2002 11:37:31 AM
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