22.12.2025, 6:27
I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to classify types of insomnia. There is the insomnia of a lover—sweet, sticky, full of dopamine hallucinations. There is the insomnia of a student—caffeinated, hysterical. And there is the insomnia of a citizen of the Islamic Republic of Iran—paranoid, with the taste of metal in your mouth, when you wait not for dawn, but for a sound that will divide your life into “before” and “after”
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