through a glass darkly

sleeplessness stalks "to be, or not to be: that is the question: whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them? to die: to sleep: no more; and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to,—’t is a consummation devoutly to be wish’d. to die, to sleep; to sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there ’s the rub: for in that sleep of death what dreams may come," ahh, the ever applicable shakespeare. i can't fucking sleep yet again. tylenol pm it is, and to hell with whether the alarm clock wakes me up or not.