It's the cumulative listlessness of insomnia that always gets to me. I am always tired and it fucks with time. Losing time is one thing, that's miserable in its own right, but it's when seconds crawl into hour-like chasms and I stare at the wall or the ceiling for what feels like days that it really sucks. Sometimes it's backwards useful, where I start half daydreaming and hallucinating, and sometimes stories/inspiration lie in that Gap. Lack of sleep and pain have always produced wilder vivid imagery and psychedelia than anything short of massive doses of drugs did.
I think I'd still take the sleep over it, though. I am physically exhausted as well.
