famous insomniacs include Amy Lowell, Judy Garland, Franz Kafka, Groucho Marx, and Mark Twain. Albert Einstein used to sleep through meetings because he wasn’t able to sleep at night. Teddy Roosevelt’s cure was a shot of cognac in a glass of milk.

Kafka kept a diary of his sleeplessness. on october 2, 1911, he wrote, “Sleepless night. The third in a row. I fall asleep soundly, but after an hour I wake up, as though I had laid my head in the wrong hole.”

when Marx couldn’t sleep, he’d call people in the middle of the night and insult them.

Garland died of a drug overdose after years of dependence on amphetamines and sleeping pills.

The picture’s far too big to look at kid, your eyes won’t open wide enough
And you’re constantly surrounded by the swirling stream of what is and what was
Well, we’ve all made our predictions but the truth still isn’t out
But if you wanna see the future, go and stare into a cloud

i haven’t slept on my own in about three months. i tried last night to fall asleep to the sound of Sunday Night Football on low. it worked a few times, but part of my head did not want the rest of me to sleep and jolted me awake. when i finally checked the clock, it was nearly 2 a.m. that’s when i went to the orange rx bottle. again.

And keep trying to find your way out through that maze of memories
It all sorta looks familiar till you get up close then it’s different clearly
But each time you turn a corner
You’re right back where you were
And your only hope is that forgetting might make a door appear

i woke up this morning and laid in bed for awhile, waiting for the fog of leftover night that usually stalks me when i haven’t slept long. i opened my eyes, and it didn’t come. i stood up, and it didn’t come. i was greeted by nothing but the soft light of a cold morning and the quiet walls. i took some deep breaths, swallowing the first moments of today. i walked down the stairs at the steady pace of the second hand, noting each second, each moment, each inhale, each exhale. when i made it to the bathroom, my reflection was grinning at me.

So I’ll be holding my note and stomping and strumming and feeling so very lucky
And there is nothing I know except a lifetime’s one moment and wishing will just leave you empty
So you can try to live in darkness but you will never shake the light
No, it will greet you every morning, make you more aware with its absence at night
When you’re wrapped up in your blankets, baby, that comfortable cocoon
But I’ve seen the day of your awakening, boy, and it’s coming soon

pain isn’t terrible. it’s the anticipation of pain that paralyzes. it’s when you apply to your present situation every memory of what has happened in similar previous situations, when you conjure the worst images you’ve seen on tv, that you tense up and spend every second bracing for a feeling that may or may not arrive. and it never happens exactly the way you expected it to.

when pain comes without warning, you don’t have time to find a way to avoid it or worry or be angry. you just have to deal with it–find a band aid, go to the emergency room, or sit still for a moment. and you do deal with it, and it passes. it always passes.

the anticipation never changes the fact that you have to deal with it when it happens.

kill the anticipation. just lay your head down and close your eyes.

I’m gonna follow the road and let the scenery sweeping by easily enter my body
I will send this message in code, underground, through forests and deserts and cities
All across electric wire, it’s a baited line, yeah the hook’s in deep, boys, there’s no more time
So you can struggle in the water, be too stubborn to die
Or you can just let go and be lifted to the sky

[lyrics: Bright Eyes - The Big Picture]