No Sleep Till Death

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.