In the car.
It's always in the car that I start thinking. Really thinking. Thinking about my past, my present and my future. I think it's because of the fact that being in a car with an African landscape rushing past has been such a constant in my life. We just drive so much. And I love it, I really and truly do. I'm happiest when in a car, in the sun, driving through wild, African terrain. A few shrubs, or hills, or rocks rushing by. A Clear sky with few clouds. A road which doesn't seem to end.
This is where I feel at home.
This is where I think.

So today we were in the car and my mother was talking about my strange sleeping habits.
I used to sleepwalk and do very odd things like put my pajama on backwards and sleep in the sink.
Nowadays I just talk.
My mom always tells me that I talk in my sleep. She also says that nothing I say makes much sense, but I talk a lot. And really loudly. And in different languages.
I also have trouble waking up in the mornings. I know no one really likes waking up, but I like it even less than most people.
Also, when I sleep, nothing can wake me up at night. It doesn't matter how lou