Without Somnus

insomnia

Writer’s block!

Not really. I’ve just been busy working on other things this week and haven’t had time to focus entirely on my efforts here. When I have written I’ve found that what I write scores very badly on every Yoast SEO algorithmic indicator known to man. Bad. Very bad.

But I don’t let that get me down. I understand the why. Partially, it’s the doldrums of the changing seasons, as I indicated last week, and partially it’s all the portions on my plate. My eyes have been bigger than my stomach.

I haven’t written a Rams article in weeks. And the storylines have been the most remarkable in 14 years. My editor has probably disowned me by now.

What I have worked on the last couple of days was a terribly written but thoughtful article on world peace and the hopeful unity of all mankind. It hasn’t panned out. None of it. The world peace part. The hopeful unity part. The writing about it part. None.

So I guess that piece just isn’t ready. Likewise, I’m not ready to write about the Rams and their sudden winning ways. I am ready for tomorrow night’s outrageous Halloween party, so maybe that’s where I am right now.

Shallow. In need of reverie. Discombobulated intellectually.

I had an old friend visit in the middle of the night, last night. You call him insomnia, derived from the root word “Somnus,” who was the Roman god of sleep. He was the son of Night and the Brother of Death. That last part is a fascinating distinction because what kept me from the arms of Morpheus was the very haunting and infinitely intriguing new Netflix program, “Mindhunter.” The missus and I watched the final episode of the first season last night and sat mesmerized, saying, in unison, “That is a great fucking show.” It is. But it is haunting. It makes you want to learn more about the topic of the show, but the topic of the show is the most disturbing thing in society. The further you delve, the less likely you sleep.

Thus, my unfortunate quarrel with Somnus this evening past.

And lack of sleep does nothing to ameliorate our discombobulation.

So, despite the voices of my better angels, I write in the throes of a discombobulated fervor, asking for your patience and hoping that a grain of sagacity somehow finds it’s way through the flowing sands of balderdash.

If not, please read the Universal Declaration of Human Rights upon which today’s post was to be based. This, then, is what we should be focused on instead of populist protectionism.

After that, read my favorite article of the week, by local writer, military veteran, and former Trump-supporter R.V. Scheide, “On Bending the Knee.” The comment section, too, is a source of great erudition.

After that, feel free to come read this piece again. Maybe you’ll find that grain of sand I proposed. Or maybe not. Maybe the mindhunter stole it.

I don’t think I’ll be staying up tonight exploring that idea.

I can’t live another night without Somnus.

Author: Tom Being Tom

Tom Being Tom is one man’s worldview, plastered on the digital world stage for all to see. He drank and knew things long before Tyrion ever did.

7 thoughts on “Without Somnus”

    1. Thank you, Jane! I made the mistake of looking up the men these cases are based upon (they are all real), and getting more info on them. That lingered well into the wee hours of the night! 😱

  1. Your insomnia-affected discombobulated posts are better than most people’s wide awake posts that were days in the planning. So here’s something: a few weeks ago, you made a very important point in response to something I said. I don’t recall if it was on the heels of something I wrote or something you wrote, but that doesn’t matter. But come November, when I’m allowed to discuss all topics again, I will be using what you said as the basis of an essay that’s been a long time coming. So even when you don’t think you’ve inspired anyone, Tom, you absolutely have.

Now, You Be You: