Burrowing thoughts

I can't sleep...as usual. I find one thought leads to another thought, which in turn leads to a party. In my head. It is not a party I wish to attend but here I am. I have a sticker on my car that says, "I'm not anti-social. I'm pro-solitude." While this is true much of the time, I am really a very social person. Not much to show for it though. All this thinking about thoughts and people led me to this thought: What makes a true friend? Someone you spend time with? Someone who will call you or text you out of the blue but not seem unexpected? More likely, someone you can trust in a foxhole. Most people don't spend much time in foxholes, I realize. It is someone you can trust with your life. I don't know how many people I know that fit that description. One at least to be sure. Everyone needs that one person. I guess not too many people would think I would be relied on for that either, even though I have told them that I was trained to kill. Okay, I usually say it as a joke, but I was in the Marine Corps and we were taught how to hypothetically defend ourselves in life-threatening situations. I have never tested these techniques in real life. True story. I usually get a laugh though when I say it, which leads me to believe that others don't find me likely to be able to attempt such feats. I hope never to find out. But I digress...my thoughts congregating reminds me of writing. I write because I feel the urge to assemble my thoughts into statements that can be deconstructed. This isn't always an easy task. To me, my thoughts are vast and all-encompassing. To others, perhaps, just random. I read constantly and in a variety of genres and subjects. I analyze each book like a biologist dissects a specimen. Bit by bit, I take each book apart, finding its center, its truth. As a writer, you may start with something small and build and build on it, making others find the truth of  what you're saying. This is something you do to enhance a complicated thought. A well told story is a sea of thoughts floating, floating, floating into something unexplored and beautiful. How many ways can you say beautiful? It is both objective and subjective. Not everyone will get your beautiful but you hope someone will. Sometimes I get so lost in a book that I am distracted for days. Then I wonder if I'm being selfish and shallow for thinking about a book too long instead of what's around me. What does this say about me? Does it make me a bad parent or an inconsiderate friend? My inner self thinks way too much and over-complicates things most of the time. Maybe this is why I can't sleep so much of the time. Descartes said, "I think, therefore I am." But I say, I think too much, therefore I don't sleep. If I don't sleep, I may not be.