What I Do On Saturday Night

My back parallel with the floor, I look at the ceiling. Lyrics whispering in my ear through the headphones I received on an airplane for the in-flight movie, guitar riffs cooing their chord progressions to me, bass lines lightly thumping in the background. I have so much on my mind but I can't focus on one complete thought. It turns into an orgy or a compilation of seven or eight different thoughts formed as one. You are at the point of being so tired that when you try and sleep, you can't. It can only be described as "when you start counting the lights in your room". Sometimes you get a random energy boost to get up and accomplish something with your life. The music gets my head thrown into a paradox most of the time. Sometimes even oxymorons. I time how long it takes the light on the smoke detector to blink green. Every fifteen green beeps comes a quick orange one. The next song starts up with a quiet banging of the drums. It gets my thoughts headed in another direction. Not a good direction, so I click the next button. Thirty-second note assault on a guitar gets me thinking about blood. I open my eyes and look out the window. It couldn't be any more calm than it is at this time of the night. And that's when your mind gives up the fight to keep your body up.