IT'S FIVE THIRTY AM AND I CAN'T FUCKING SLEEP SO I READ SOME POETRY · 4:13am Jul 5th, 2015
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of I CAN'T MOTHERFUCKING SLEEP
IT'S MOTHERFUCKING FIVE THIRTY AM I HAVE SLEPT FOR WHAT, FOUR HOURS TOTAL TODAY, AND YESTERDAY I SLEPT FOR SIX HOURS I CAN FEEL MY BRAIN FUCKING MELTING AS WE SPEAK
By the name of Annabel Lee.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this I'M ASSBANGELY SERIOUS WHY THE SHIT DO I HAVE TO SUFFER INSOMNIA NOW, WHEN I CAN FINALLY SLEEP AS MUCH AS I WANT, JESUS FORNICATING CHRIST ON A BIKE.
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven OH DON'T LET ME START ON THOSE SERAPHS WHAT A BUNCH OF CUNTS.
Coveted her and me. THE CUNTS.
And this was the reason that, long ago, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY I THINK SERAPHS ARE BAD? BECAUSE IT'S FUCKING FIVE THIRTY AM AND I'M WIDE AWAKE
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee; SNOOCHIE MY PANOOCHIES THE GAL PAL IS COLD, SOUND THE FUCKING ALARMS. GUESS WHAT, POE-HOE MY MAN, YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT SUCKS WAY MORE DICK THAN BEING SLIGHTLY COLD? TRY HAVING INSOMNIA IN A ROOM THAT'S FORTY NIPPLEPACKING DEGREES
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me, AND ALSO THAT WAS IN CELSIUS I THINK IT'S AROUND 100 NIPPLEBURSTING DEGREES IF WE'RE TALKING IN FAHRENHEIT
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
OH FUCK NOW ANNABEL LEE'S DEAD SHIT SORRY FOR MAKING FUN OF HER CHILLY-WILLIES, POE-HOE. I HOPE WE CAN STILL BE BUDDIES.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, WHAT ARE YOU BITCHING ABOUT THE ANGELS AGAIN DUDE WE SAID THEY'RE CUNTS GET OVER IT.
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea) YOU DO REALIZE I IMAGINE THE LITTLE FUCKING MERMAID EVERY TIME YOU SAY THAT, RIGHT.
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
OH RIGHT SHIT BOOBALICIOUS LADY SCHNADY IS BOOBALICIOUS NO MORE. I GUESS THAT JUSTIFIES THE WHOLE RAGE AGAINST THE HEAVENS GIZMO. HOW THE FUCK DID I FORGET THAT MISSY'S MISSING TWICE IN A ROW, GOLLY GEE.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were WAIT I KNOW WHY, BECAUSE IT'S FIVE THIRTY AM AND I'M WIDE AWAKE HAHAHA FOR A SECOND I FORGOT MY BRAIN IS A PUDDLE RIGHT NOW
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE POE-HOE NO WONDER THE CUNTGELS FROZE YOUR LIL' COOKIETITS YOU'RE SUCH A WHINEY DUDE
Nor the demons down under the sea
WHAT NOW YOU'RE COMPLAINING AGAINST THE DEMONS TOO WHAT'S NEXT VENTING AT THE FUCKING MOON OR WHAT
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
POE-HOE YOU'RE DISAPPOINTING ME GREATLY HERE
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
BUT THIS DISAPPOINTMENT IS NOTHING COMPARED TO THE FACT THAT WHY AM I AWAKE RIGHT NOW OH GOD PLEASE SOMEONE SHOOT ME
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
YES I WAS DOING THAT TOO BUT THEN I WOKE UP AND NOW I CAN'T GO BACK AT SLEEPING WITH THE NIGHT-TIDE, WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT IS. I'M GUESSING IT'S THE COSMIC EQUIVALENT OF SOMETHING I COULDN'T GIVE LESS OF A SHIT ABOUT.
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
YOU COULD SAY SHE'S SLEEPING WITH THE FISHES THEN. EH? EH?
EH?
YEAH.
FUCK IT, I'M TIRED AND MY FAMILY'S ASLEEP. I'M GONNA READ LESBIAN COMICS AND LISTEN TO COUNTRY MUSIC. THAT ALWAYS CHEERS THE TITS OUT OF ME.
SOME OF YOU MIGHT BE CUTE AND THINK THIS IS A JOKE. IT IS NOT. HENCE THE TAG.
ALSO I LIKE THIS POEM SO MUCH MY GUITAR IS NAMED ANNABEL LEE, BECAUSE I'M A HUGE FUCKING NERD.
One time I had a dream. I was driving a convertible named the Annabel Lee towards the distant lands of Eldorado, being led by a raven flying overhead. Then Poe appeared next to me in the convertible, and I stated that all that I saw and seemed was but a dream within a dream.
Poe nodded and smiled -- you know, as much as Poe could smile -- and said that this world was but a stage, and we were both actors who in our time would play many parts, and have our entrances and exits and--
"No, I'm going to have to stop you right there. That's Shakespeare dude."
Poe then glared at me until I woke up.
3208099 Tad bit morbid.
Not sure how I feel.
Laughter =(Silent)
Comes to mind.
Sorry you can't get to sleep, but holy fuck your shenanigans never end. You always make me laugh, dude. I hope you're able to get some sleep.
You and Edgar Allen over there seem to be getting along just dandy.
Dear Aragon,
I can totally relate to how you are feeling right now being someone who has never slept well in her life and over this past week has gotten no more than four hours sleep every night.
However, saying that, this damn post did have me laughing my fucking tits off, so for that I apologise because fucking insomnia is no fucking fun.
Annabel Lee is my fucking favourite poem as well.
So, rest up, chill out, drink warm milk (Numbers recommends that shit, I prefer a fuck load of cider to help me drift into unconsciousness) spray your room with lavender, and listen to whale music and I hope you get some quality sleep soon my friend.
Take care
New favorite quote.
My face hurts from chuckling at this. Thanks a lot (80% sarcasm).
Suddenly being awake at 2:00 am doesn't feel so horrible. Thank you.
This was beautiful. If sleep deprivation meas the existence of this kind of beauty, you must not sleep no longer. For the sake of art.
Goddammit, Aragon, you are the funniest goddamn person.
Apparently computer-monitor light causes
your brain to wake up cos it thinks it's sunlight, which means YOU'RE MAKING IT EVEN WORSE BY BEING HERE DUDE