My beautiful afternoon (I should be cleaning the house, but I'm watching Nyan cat-24 hours version instead). Yeeeeeaah. And now a good cup of coffee. I'm Da Master of Procrastination.

Insomnia I've suffered insomnia since I was 22. I remember neverending, black horrid nights in which I read the biggest books of my collection, no matter the author or the subject. I read La Regenta (670 pages, more or less!) in two nights; I watched so many movies I couldn't even remember the next day; I listened to the CDs with the creepiest covers and darkest sounds (Residents, specially, and a lot of Joy Division and Sisters of Mercy) and drew the most stupid things, like headless chickens or little pregnant dolls with butterfly wings. I wrote strange poems about sandwiches and bald men too. My creativity, however, had its peaks, and after that I couldn't read or draw or watch anything more without the feeling that my head was about to explode. Luckily, I didn't have a job and I attended evening classes. Nevertheless, I felt so tired all along the day that when the night came I had some coffee (no need to say how suicidal that was), and again the big books and the dark music and so. Finally I went to a doctor and got some pills, and I got better for a few years. Now I'm sleeping bad again but I try to take it easy. I listen to whales and dolphins singing, play with my cat and things like that, because I don't want to take pills if I can avoid it. Last night I slept al least four hours: that's a great achievement for me. Someone told me to exercise or something, but the truth is I use my static bycicle for putting things on it, and I don't think that's gonna change. We will see. Or read. Or draw stupid things.