Did Andy Warhol ever sleep?

Y'know, if I were to do it over again, I'd probably give this life to someone else, someone who deserves it more than I do. I know you can't do that, but that's what I would do. I'd give it to a girl who wanted the opportunity to be a nurse. She would have been so great at it, saved people's lives and shit. I'd give her me minus the fuck-ups, the bad body, bad clothes, and queerness. Blank slate, but same opportunities. She'd be a real winner. There'd be a wedding, a big white, catholic wedding in a church and an open bar at the reception.

Y'know what Judith Halberstam? I don't know about the giant gay world, but it is hard being queer me, it's hard being loser me. It's hard to fuck up everything that you do in everyone else's eyes. It's hard not to be the right girl girl, the right queer girl, or the lesbian everyone wants you to be. I know I probably missed the point of some theory I've yet to read. It's just a process, yet no one says it gets easier. Burnt out, I've read the stories, people burn out into apathy. Work til we don't give a shit anymore, then give it to the kids who work til they don't give a shit anymore.

Y'know I might go to bed at 9:30pm because I still don't feel well. Tomorrow's a fucking long day, and this not feeling well is a product of something. Tomorrow's the counsellor day. Oh, life's not really this dramatic, it just feels like this sometimes. Constantly feels like its ending and nothing good is starting, but that's the quirks of having a mind like mine. I hope I am not becoming the kind of person who goes to bed early because it doesn't suit my nocturnal creativity.