27
Dec
06

Indoblog #4 - bedroom noises

Over the past hour I’ve been lying in bed staring at the ceiling. For some reason my sleeping tablets I took on the way back from dinner haven’t kicked in so I’m here wide awake.

My lungs hurt from the drive home. I think I’ve done more damage to them by sitting in Indonesian traffic than I have with my 14 years of smoking.

At the corner if the ceiling there is a crack big enough to poke my finger through. I can see the sky through it - well, not really the sky, just the smog illuminated by the city below it. Its nearly 2 in the morning and the traffic still is as loud as it was 12 hours prior. The city never sleeps. Someone should give it a few stillnox so it can shut the fuck up.

Aside from the constant honking of disgruntled drivers, the constant ticking of 5 separate clocks echo through the night.

tick. tock. tick. tock.

must. not. stab. self.

Every so often I hear the scuttling of a rat on the roof top. It occasionally jumps onto my window ledge and stares at me for a while, attracted by the light of my PDA. I think I’ve slept too much this week. Whenever I haven’t had to entertain relatives or go out somewhere I’ve been drugging myself to sleep. I guess I’ve overdone it this time.

I don’t feel one bit safe here, someone could easily break through these paper thin walls and steal my junk… Not too worried about getting raped tho. Not too sure why I value my mobile phone over my personal chastity. I’ve got my passport, plane tickets and $3000 in cash strapped to me at all times. God knows why I bother - this is the first holiday that I bought travel insurance for. I’d better get my moneys worth.

ahh god I’m bored. Its past 3 in the morning, so I can’t text anyone there.. I’ve already read all my books I brought from home - 3 novels and 3 magazines. I managed to be a master at all the games on my Nintendo DS and my mobile. Now I’m just rambling on a personal organiser.. Its hard to vent with a stylus and a touch screen.

Perhaps I should just punch something.

ahhh fuckit. back to staring at the ceiling.


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