Insomnia Train

“Some days you need to be over with as soon as you wake up. Your body recognizes it. But your mind tells you otherwise. It’s foggy. Like those dreams where you can’t run. You put every ounce of energy into the movements, but you can’t go forward. Your mind and body are so disconnected it’s like you’ve been transported to another dimension. But eventually your mind catches up to your body and it’s all fog” - excerpt from my screenplay Insomnia Train (2018)

From 2015-2018 I created a secret world aboard a train in the dark, one that doesn't comply with society's timeline. It travels on a line between the conscious and subconscious. Only visible to a quirky community of Insomniacs. They’re able to ride the train- while real time is on pause- until they’re tired enough to fall asleep.

The story centers around six characters. Here are some of their monologues:

NATALIE (the insecure romantic)

It’s true that monsters live under beds. I'm terrified of the one under mine. It’s made of the dangerous thoughts that only come in the throes of an insomnia episode. It guards my sanity. 

Ironically I help others get to bed. The little ones. Two books- then sleep. Sometimes a song. I’m tone deaf but I do it anyways. The little ones sometimes cry. If only they knew I did the same. 

I like daisies. I like the weeping willow tree. I like the changing of seasons and blue skies. But at night they disappear into the dark. The daisies are impossible to find- they belong to the light of the day.

I’d give anything to bask in more of that light. Sometimes I fear there will be a day where I never see the daisies. Unless I’m staring at my picture of them- in a frame, inside four walls, inside the exterior of a house, that stands in the night. 

I wish a force could take my hand, lead me past the monster. Maybe sing me a bedtime song and tell me that it’s all going to be okay.

TREY (the righteous rationalist)

There's a theory that insomniacs don't belong in this world. I suppose that's a gross exaggeration but it's interesting to explore.

Sleep doctors say that if I were to live on an uncivilized, stranded island- I might naturally fall asleep at 5 A.M And wake up at 1 P.M. Delayed Circadian Rhythm. The issue is that I don’t live on a stranded island. And institutions are built for the average sleeper. 

Time is subjective, measured by one’s own perception. However, it must exist objectively in order for society to function. So, insomnias are encouraged to adjust their unique cycle. To get through that 9 to 5 in order to survive.

I long to create a universal sleep cycle. To decide when the sun is visible. But for now, that time between our setting and rising sun belongs to a minority.

MARGARET (the bitter existentialist)

Imagine awakening with weakness. The weight of a brick on each eye, the force of the sun pinning your body to the mattress. The will to rise depleted by an absolute need to continue sleep. 

You must break through- you have a responsibility to the day. You must not let the exhaustion dictate your agenda. You must resist a nap, so you can more easily surrender to the approaching night. 

And the night approaches in slow motion, teasing you with bouts of energy followed by delirium. The rollercoaster ends how it began, with weighted eyes and collapsing legs. You skip your nighttime routine, fearing the tiredness will escape.
You must take refuge in bed, immediately.

The exhaustion is consuming you, yet something inside is holding on to consciousness. You try to push it off the ledge, but it holds tight with one, gripping finger. 

Time has passed. You’re desperate to check the clock, but the doctors advise against that. They say you should get up and do something! Remain calm.

No T.V.- blue light is the enemy! No reading- comprehension is futile. No writing- the brain can’t produce a rational thought. No distractions from the fact that you can’t do, but you must remain calm! 

It’s foolish to use a remedy you’re accustomed to. But the dark drives you past foolishness to madness. So you swallow a benzo and a prayer. 

Eventually the light creeps into your room. Illuminating those swollen eyes. 

Check the clock, wipe your tears, and pound your fists. 

Then collect yourself. It is today.