This is copied from my notebook as I was in no position to switch a computer on at this time of the day.
It is 2.45 am.
I am tired. Very much so. But I cannot sleep, or even risk closing my eyes because there is a moth in my bedroom.
My intention is to focus on writing so that I can a) not think about it b) try and pretend to be slightly normal and not completely terrified of a moth c) hopefully lose complete consciousness when my energy is totally out.
It came dangerously close to me before. Dangerous for both of us - my pulse increased an unnatural amount, and I was considering killing it with this book as it was in my hand (the book that is, not the moth!), but smeared moth is equally as ghastly.
I have fetched one of my fathers books to get it with - 'Basic Econometrics' - I guess desperate times really do call for desperate measures.
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