No Sleep Till Death
Russians are like
insomnia. Always there and always evil. No let up on the pressure. A wave
bursting out of your skull. A physical presence so real it becomes surreal.
Invisible, not there, not existing.
But eight thousand
nuclear warheads, massive human rights abuses, Crimean annexation, Ukrainian
invasion and a delusionary paranoid dictator give pause for thought. Let us
touch reality.
When sleep does come,
its broken. You awake feeling shit, unrested, on edge, that something is up and
bad things will happen. That's Russia peering over your shoulder.
The bit of sleep you
have is punctuated by dreams, bad ones. Nightmares of unseen imagery, enemies
too evil for words. For insomnia is Russia, Russia is insomnia.
And when Russia
blows, it'll affect every single one of us. We'll all be wide-awake then. Only
sleeping as the final nuclear curtain falls.
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