I can’t sleep… and I know virtually everyone on this planet at some point in their existence experiences this. Many will see this as a recurring event.
For me?
It is an existential truth.
There is an interesting moment each night for me—the point where my neurodivergent brain meets the absolute absence of energy left in my body.
It’s a strange place to live.
My brain and body are essentially two departments in the same dysfunctional corporation, operating under completely incompatible protocols.
My body has entered shutdown protocol. It has begun issuing increasingly desperate notices:
LOW BATTERY.
CRITICAL BATTERY.
PLEASE STOP DOING THINGS.
WHY ARE WE STILL STANDING?
Meanwhile, somewhere upstairs, the brain monkeys have apparently discovered cocaine. Or caffeine. Or both. They’re banging pots and pans together and demanding to know why we haven’t looked something up.
Because there is always something to look up.
Always.
It doesn’t matter that it’s 1:30 at night and I can barely keep my eyes open. There is a question that needs answering. A question of profound importance. A question that absolutely cannot wait until morning.
For example: Do penguins have knees?
Now, a reasonable person might say, “Who cares? Go to bed.”
But that is not how this works. Because now I need to know.
Do they?
And if they do, where the hell are they?
Why do penguins walk like tiny Victorian gentlemen who have just discovered their trousers are on fire?
This is the absurd reality of being me.
There are conflicting operating protocols running simultaneously.
BODY PROTOCOL: Shut everything down. We have nothing left. Go to bed.
BRAIN PROTOCOL: Absolutely. But first, let’s investigate penguin knees.
BODY PROTOCOL: No.
BRAIN PROTOCOL: Fine. How about one episode?
BODY PROTOCOL: No.
BRAIN PROTOCOL: A snack?
BODY PROTOCOL: Maybe.
BRAIN PROTOCOL: Caffeine?
BODY PROTOCOL: You have got to be fucking kidding me.
BRAIN PROTOCOL: Okay, okay. Doom scrolling?
BODY PROTOCOL: I am begging you.
And this is where caffeine becomes both accomplice and evidence. Because caffeine is never merely caffeine. Caffeine is a binding agreement between Present Me and Future Me, and Future Me is always getting screwed.
Present Me says, “Just a little. I need to get through the evening.”
Future Me wakes up three hours later thinking, “You absolute asshole.”
But the brain monkeys don’t care.
They don’t clock out.
They don’t have PTO.
They don’t respect office hours.
They are apparently unionized.
And when the rest of the system finally begins shutting down, they see it as an opportunity.
“Excellent. The human is tired. Less resistance. RELEASE THE QUESTIONS.”
Suddenly I’m lying in bed wondering how deep the ocean is.
Then why flamingos are pink.
Then whether octopuses dream.
Then whether penguins actually have knees.
Then, somehow, I’m reading about the mating rituals of some obscure bird found exclusively on an island I’ve never heard of.
And somewhere around paragraph seven, my eyes close. Not peacefully. Not intentionally. Just…
SYSTEM FAILURE.
Sometimes I don’t even make it to the bed.
I’ll get up to grab a snack, determined to silence the monkeys with food, caffeine, or both, and the next thing I know I’m standing in the hallway staring blankly into the middle distance.
The body has simply pulled the plug.
No negotiations.
No warning.
Just: “We’re done here.”
And there I am, half asleep in the hallway, one hand still reaching toward the kitchen, while my brain is apparently three tabs deep into penguin anatomy.
This is the absurd reality of being me. A body that desperately wants rest. A brain that desperately wants answers.
And an unreasonable quantity of caffeine acting as the mediator between two sides that have never once agreed on the agenda.
Some people have an off switch.
I have a committee.
And the committee would like to know about penguin knees.
Disclaimer: No animals were harmed in the writing of this piece.
The penguins are fine.
The over-caffeinated brain monkeys, however, have since returned to their cubicles after successfully negotiating acceptable working conditions, reasonable release time for self-discovery, and a mutually agreeable end to the evening’s intellectual labor.
Management has agreed to stop supplying caffeine after hours.
The monkeys have agreed to stop demanding answers to questions nobody asked.
For now, at least. The corporation is stable. The body has shut down. The brain has finally gone quiet. And the monkeys are back in their cubicles, presumably scrolling through something they absolutely do not need to know.
It’s progress.
There’s more waiting at https://xinkblotz.com.
Telling stories, sharing thoughts, and drinking coffee. A blend of fiction, reflection, and whatever’s brewing—one post at a time.
Stories have always traveled best by word of mouth. If one of these finds a place in your heart, I’d be honored if you’d drop a like or share it with someone else.
© 2026 Mariano Velez ~ InkBlotz Press
Leave a Reply