I have conquered sleep, but the war is not without casualties. With the exception of my mind, I do not act. In truth, it is more of a stalemate than a victory. I hold sleep at bay, and my mind runs unfettered. But sleep’s armies have my corpus pinned down, unable to maneuver or strategically retreat. But while my worthless body struggles, immobile and useless, with fatigue, my mind builds. It builds on foundations that never collapse beneath the weight of unconsciousness. Sleep is the toddler that monsters, innocent and ruthless, through the sand castles of thought, forcing their architects to rebuild day after day.

Free of this monster, my sandcastles reach to the sky. With twice the time to think, I think more than others do. More than twice as much! The more one thinks, the more momentum one’s thoughts acquire, as a train gathers speed on a straightaway, fatigue the rusted rail that grinds momentum to a halt.

Shed of that burden, my sandcastles reach with infinite momentum into the sky of space! I have fixed the economy, solved social injustice, created free energy, and cured disease.

When I figure out telepathy, you’ll all understand.

I’m so tired.