Dreams.

Slept for about eight hours today. It seems like enough, but I still felt like sleeping. When I got back from work, I lay down for another four hours. I had some kind of weird dream about what happened and what I was thinking about during the morning. I want to sleep again, although there was a time when even after a two-hour nap, I wouldn't want to sleep until three in the morning. This week, once, when I came home from work, I ate and immediately went to sleep. Then I woke up, ate again, and went back to sleep. The next day, I thought that if I didn't have to study, I would probably do that often. If you think about it, sleep is almost like death, only not forever. In general, sleep is the last comfort in this existence. A great way to escape. It's so good to float in a fog of incomprehensible visions or not remember anything at all in the morning. A complete plunge into nothingness. Mmm...