sleep

I don't sleep no matter what. The Contracts subtopic I'm reviewing right now: "Unconscionability." It's the god of contracts sending disapprobation via Microsoft Word, telling me riddles. Similarly, in July 2001 the god of travel guides visited me in Jiri, Nepal with a simple message suspiciously well-placed right between my hands as I bent to the fetid floor for my nightly push-ups: "Change." My spirituality only manifests twice a decade, as one-word condemnations from otherwise absent divinities who traffic in wordplay. They draw my attention to choices poorly made, and then leave me wondering obtusely about what might have been.