when I take my sleep aid drugs and when I actually go to sleep is filled with the complete range of human emotions. At first, I might want to listen to some dance music. Maybe I love everyone. But after a while, I reflect on life and love and leftovers and feel just plain bad. Disappointed or dissipated. I might want to buy a guitar. I might want to write a novel. I might be in love with a girl who I’ve only kissed twice and haven’t spoken to since who-cares-when. I might not believe in love.