Insomnia, what?

Soooo, it's 4:10 am. I can't seem to find dreamland, so I've been working on sketches. Cleo is at my side being adorable. She almost always sleeps with me at my feet, knees, or chest. Her whiskers wake me in the morning. Cali usually comes in and starts kneading and purring loudly on me. I move too much for her to actually sleep on me, so she will usually take the knee spot if Cleo hasn't claimed it. Cali is a very loyal cat with a heart that longs for the outside world. I'm not sure how she is going to react once I move. I almost feel like I will need to adopt another cat to keep her company while I'm away at work. I will not be able to give her up. I think we will both miss the company of Cleo and Jericho very much.
I hate house hunting. I don't have a lot to move (other than the mopeds), so at least that will be easy. The drive to and from Mechanicsburg everyday is not as mundane as I thought it would be. I guess all my years of driving ridiculous distances to get places has left me with mutual respect for the road. I'm just a little concerned for the health of my car. Moped parts are much cheaper and easier to replace myself.
The Carlisle Pike is much like Route 1 in Baltimore. A stretch of pavement providing its travellers with a plethora of business exploitation and distal distractions. There isn't much as far as dwellings go, just your average run of the mill apartment complexes. The good news is that the cost of living is ridiculously cheaper than Gettysburg (or B-more/Bel Air for that matter). I'm not ready to buy property, but I'm tired of renting. I should sink my red cents into a new vehicle, and live out of it while travelling the country. Yea, I've thought about it. Not the safest or smartest idea, but it might be fun. Thorsett would be proud.

After mentioning my LJ in the below post, I went back and started to read through some of the old entries. For those of you who have been perplexed by my seemingly hopeless and melancholy themes, don't be fooled. Most of those entries are just snapshots of my mixed up dreams. Some were daydreams, and some were just, well, whatever came to mind. A few reflected actual events, just translated to a mood rather than literally. I know, I know, I'm not exactly Shakespeare, so most of that stuff seems corny for sure. There are a few of those entries that still give me goosebumps when I read them.
I've forgotten how intense my dreams were at that point. The beginning of this year was the worst. I almost felt like my dreams started invading reality. Then I realised it was just the greater spirits being unhappy with my curiousity. I do not regret where or who I am, but sometimes I regret compassion. Everyone has flaws, it seems mine is my sensitivity in certain situations. I guess I would not be much of an artist without it. One of my greatest drives is finding the good in the things people miss. I enjoy the spontaneity of it all.

Unfortunately, I'm not a very quick person, at least not in cognitive thought. I think my heart tends to react to a situation first, and my brain has to justify it. This process can take a few moments. I think I like it that way. I know that if I am happy initially, then I am truly happy. If I am upset initially, then I am truly upset. My brain just has to figure out what to do with that emotional concoction. Somtimes I want to take action, but my heart seems to know the outcome before anything is done. I usually end up frustrated when my brain sets out to prove my heart wrong, and I end up right where my heart said I would. Now I've got the initial stimulii, and then it's topped off with bonus frustration. How annoying.

Then sometimes I think I was created for the wrong universe. I can't seem to find much similiarity with my thought processes and modern society. I've always felt an odd fluctuating frequency around me, and that contributes to the frequent confusion. Perhaps its a time warp, or maybe it's the conscience of loneliness, often revisted without much repreive. At least I know I'm sane. I'm just always locked in a birdcage. One can always adapt to a sufficient captive environment, but the heart will always feel deprived of spiritual sustinence.

Hmmm, I think that may have paid the Sandman. Sleep is welcomed here, finally. I'll report back here with more ramblings tomorrow...er, today. G'Morning!