Do you sleep?

As it happens now every so often, it's freaking late. I'm up, half dreaming, half thinking of pasts long gone, of memories perhaps somewhat planted or maybe plain delusions. I keep asking myself, what is it that they are doing? They. The ones I think I've loved, or rather, became obsessed with. The other day a friend lectured me on ancient Persian poetry. How communicating through the wind was a way of exchanging between lovers. So, in this Mexico City night, somewhat cold I went out and asked the wind, do you sleep, K., do you sleep? It's been ten years since I've last seen you, but when you were there, I felt this amazing rush through my veins. I had never felt that way, and, as it was, it only happened in my head. Of course, we were never lovers or anything of the sort, but how I loved you. As intensely as only a 21 year old can love. L. Do you sleep? I should have known better, I was in my mid twenties. But I just allowed myself to become enthusiastic about something, that again, was only happening in my many hours of disperse thoughts. How I castigated you for being somewhat rude, but worse, for ignoring me, how could you? Damn, how I suffered for falling so deeply, for something that was never going to be. Worse and remorse. More recently, D. Do you sleep? My third major infatuation reached unprecedented heights, those of the unskilful. I'm so sorry, D. I never meant to hurt you, I never meant for this travesty to go out of control, I never meant to become so unthoughtful about your feelings. Please forgive me. For the first time ever, someone may have fallen for me. Or rather, for something I invented, for a monster I couldn't control. I'm so sorry. I truly hope you are sleeping and forgetting what happened, for someone did get hurt. What a shame, I am a shame. Do you all sleep? I can't sleep myself. I'm digging in the dirt.