The Army of Insomniacs.

I can’t sleep again. My mind is racing from place to place, person to person, emotion to emotion, thought to thought.

A thought about how moving to Lahore was supposed to represent a change of my entire state of being is followed by a realization that it changes absolutely nothing. My physical location will have no impact on my brain and after all, it is my brain that invokes all thoughts. My mind is a wanderer and will continue to wander no matter where I go. I will continue to question. My ‘state’ will always be that of uncertainty because I really don’t have the faith to accept what I’ve been told.

But what is ‘faith?’ Belief based on illogic? And what is ‘belief?’ How can one accept principles without a shadow of a doubt? There is uncertainty everywhere. Be it the uncertainty principle of tiny particles that we were taught in physics class but never quite understood or the somewhat random, uncertain movements of the celestial bodies above. There are no certain laws governing, just theories. Theories which are widely accepted and then disproved. The constantly changing perceptions of what is ‘moral’ and what is ‘immoral.’ It’s all so random, temporary and pointless.

The thought of death scares me. I can’t fathom feeling nothing, lying in the soil, unconscious. What does ‘unconsciousness’ feel like? I’m told it feels like nothing but how can one not feel? Perhaps that’s something I cannot imagine and that frustrates me. I flip and flop in my bed cursing my lack of faith. Maybe if I believed, that by performing certain acts, I’d go to heaven once I died where everything would be perfect, I’d be able to sleep in peace. But how can forever ever be perfect? I wonder if a believer lying in another bed also flips and flops, cursing his faith. His frustrations stemming from the perceived immortality of his soul and mine from my perceived lack of one.

I eventually give up trying to sleep and pull the laptop from my side table onto my chest. The class valedictorian is online. She asks me for advice which isn’t surprising because many of my friends come to me for advice when they want to be told to ‘fuck it, fuck everything.’ That’s the role I play. I’ve learnt that in order for us to be happy we must free ourselves from the clutches of society’s judgment and I'm quick in passing this little piece of wisdom around. But if we ‘fuck everything,' if we ‘free ourselves’ and ‘let go,’as I say we should, what will we hold onto?

Nothing.

I wonder if this is the conclusion the valedictorian will reach after our discussion. She might. Despite being the daughter that every parent dreams of, the paragon of perfection in the eyes of so many of her teachers, she is just like me. And so is the believer who flips and flops in his bed. They, like me, are part of the army of insomniacs, of thinkers whose minds race from place to place, person to person, emotion to emotion, thought to thought.