Another exhausting night

I've had a terrible night's sleep. My brain was more than usually hyperactive and I kept waking up to turn over. I feel like I've been turning round and round all night. That's all I can remember about it. I don't know if I actually slept at all. My foot was tapping when I eventually came round at 9.40am. I'm exhausted.
I feel a bit like the person in the engraving by Goya (above). Incidentally Goya's meaning was different from mine. The text "The dream of reason produces monsters" relates to the dictators who came to restore rationality and order after the defeat of Napoleon. However my own brain is very clever at creating its own monsters out of rational things. I wish it weren't. To me, the nasties that lurk behind the man correspond with the nasties that swirl round in my mind, along with all the other flotsam of my imagination. Although I'm nearly wide awake, the monsters don't seem to have gone very far away yet. I expect another mug of coffee and a few more fags might sort that out.
Although I feel exactly as I have tried to describe, I am quite used to it. It has always been with me, and has never been otherwise. I really can't imagine what it would be like not to have these feelings. Of course I don't want to feel like this, but the way that "normal" minds work is quite outside my own experience. I'd love for someone who is not on the spectrum to describe their own thought processes to me, in the same way that I try to describe my own thought processes to you. I should imagine that it wouldn't be easy. I've almost had to sit outside myself and look back in, so as to remain detached and objective, in order to try and analyse the inner workings of my hyper-creative mind.
I had a really nice natter with my friend who has aspergers. I have already told you a bit about his artwork. He's also very clever with electronics, and managed to get my stereo up and running. Well he's also a very talented musician. He plays the guitar, ukelele and banjo, and makes a fair fist of playing my keyboard, all of which without any formal training. He also plays a variety of other instruments. Clever, eh? In common with other people who have aspergers, he didn't do very well with his education. I suppose I'm a cuckoo in the aspergers nest. I did well at school for reasons I have already told you. He hasn't managed to read my blog yet (although his partner has), but I would like to write him something for when he does feel able to read it:
Please listen to me brother. You are a highly intelligent and highly talented person. Your skills and abilities put me to shame. You really come alive when you play, so play. PLAY. Do it. Try and acknowledge and then accept how talented you are. You are not second best, just because you weren't taught. You taught yourself, which is harder. Please do it.
As a footnote, I was in the same mindset when I was the same age as my friend. I was self-taught and gave piano lessons. I was teaching children for higher qualifications than I had myself, yet I wasn't confident. The special lady who was my friend when she was alive nagged me. I would protest. "Of course you're good enough dear", she would argue. It was she who got me into university. I would never have considered it, if left to my own devices.  Fucking aspergers.