Insomnia

I had the weirdest f'kin insomnia last night. It gets me, I don't know - monthly maybe. Full moon? There is a shit load of apocryphal evidence showing that people and animals react to full moons but it's the sort of thing that science just hates. I swear my cats get feisty on the full moon and a friend of mine who used to work in nursing told me that old people and nutters (two for two) get all hyper on the night the moon is at its fullest. But the trouble with science - much as I respect it, is that when faced with overwhelming circumstantial evidence but nothing which can be put into an equation it just doesn't compute in them rigorously logical minds. But I digress.

My insomnia is normally of the kind that I consider traditional - it's my most common form anyway; my frontal lobe just goes off on tangent upon tangent, weaving conversations into imaginations into lucid dreams into, well into the parts of my subconscious that I really sort of love but which I am too fond of sleep to visit often. The noise up there is so great that sometimes I'm surprised anyone in the house can sleep let alone me.

Last night was nothing like that at all. Last night the inside of my head, my subconscious was the universe. It was all that is known and it was all that is unknown. I had the most astonishing and I really do mean astonishing (bold, italics, whatever) sense of space. A spacial awareness that I imagine astronauts get when they space walk, as they first step out into the void. But much more massive. I was everywhere and I was nowhere. I could see everything. Do you have any idea what I mean?

Then I dreamed about my niece. The youngest member of my immediate family. She was a baby again. I was on the sofa at my mum's old house, just me and her and she was the most precious thing on the world, this tiny, vulnerable life and I held her so tightly wanting to keep the world spoiling from her. I woke crying. I'm crying now. I have to go.

What is going on?