Ramblings from the Sleep-Deprived
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3:42 AM.
The air is thick with the smell of caffeine. There’s a fluorescent glow shining down on the half-empty coffee cups and scattered notebooks. It’s almost poetic—crumbled snack wrappers, scrap pieces of paper, cables intertwined with one another, and the distant hum of the library fills up the space. No one speaks; they just exist in a shared stupor, staring at their screens as if sheer willpower will finish their assignments.
"But, like, what if time isn’t real?" And just like that, the room is alive again. Conversations quickly derail, especially in the late nights we spend studying. From deep philosophies to complaints about deadlines to "Did I tell you what happened to me the other day?" It’s almost like these late hours provide us with a divine inspiration we’ve been missing all day. At this hour, when your eyes are burning and beginning to shut, the shared exhaustion strips away all pretense. At this hour, everything is both hilarious and profound.
Outside, the world is still. The campus, once bustling with movement, is eerily quiet. But inside the library, the dorm room, or the apartment, the late-night delirium, the procrastination-fueled bonding, and the unfiltered conversations happen when sleep is no longer an option.
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You sigh about an overdue assignment you’ve been ignoring for days. You wishfully think you were somewhere else. There’s a moment of nostalgia as you reminisce about Freshman year; “Isn’t it crazy that we went out every weekend?”
The night is filled with do you remember's and I wish we had's, someone swears they’ll get their life together next semester, another counts how many hours of sleep they’ll get if they lock in by 5. A half-hearted plan to watch the sunrise is made, though everyone knows at least half the group will pass out before then. Someone wrapped in a hoodie like a cocoon suddenly announces how hungry they are, and their studying comes to a brief pause to find some food. The assignments remain unfinished, and the morning responsibilities loom closer, but for now, none of it matters.
Because deep down, everyone knows these nights won’t last forever. One day, the library won’t be a second home, and your phone won’t buzz with impromptu late-night study sessions. The comfort of knowing your friends are always just a dorm away will fade into scheduled meet-ups and calendar reminders. The shared exhaustion, the delirious laughter, the way time seems to stretch and contract in these moments, these are the things that you’ll miss the most.
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You’ll look back and realize these weren’t just sleepless nights. They were nights of uncontrollable laughter and stories shared. They were nights of silent pauses and tiresome studying, only to look up from your screen and know someone was there with you. They were the nights that made the days worth it, where the stress of impending deadlines was softened by the warmth of shared experiences. And maybe, just maybe, time isn’t real after all.
Strike Out,
Writer: Daniela Mendoza
Editor: Layne Schulte
Tallahassee