No conclusion & A Coney Island of the mind

Take a break, I keep telling myself, but it has yet to happen. For some reason I just can't give in, because if anything I am relentless when it comes to work. Sleep deprivation benefits me in these matters, generally. Eventually though one must catch up on rest for the sake of mind & body. Over the past few days I've done my best to do so, & the process is grueling. My relationship w/ sleep is love/hate, & even more so w/ being awake. If I am determined to catch up on sleep it results in my being taunted by dreams, & when awake all I want to do is work.
Currently my 'focus' is on determining the flow of dialogue for my stories. I have taken to studying how others employ punctuation & so on. Today alone I have gone through: Harper Lee, Dorothy Parker, Ernest Hemingway & even the writer's reference books from use in college. So far, the only author whose dialogue flow makes the most sense to me is Hemingway. He's very concise, & I find the clarity of his work to be admirable. As for finding my own flow___ pox bottles! I thought I had it, but now I'm not so certain. Obviously I wish to re-work my punctuation so that it is not disruptive to readers. Initially I wrote dialogue in the way it felt right to me. Of course I must analyze & beat everything, including myself, to death before coming to any conclusion I find acceptable. Thus far, no conclusion has been reached.
At least a few things are looking up in life. Sort of.

"I spring out of bed in my nightshirt & I commence to dance the dance of King Kotschei. In my nightshirt I dance, w/ a parasol over my head. They watch me w/out a smile, w/out so much as a crease in their jowls. I walk on my hands for them, I turn somersaults, I put my fingers between my teeth & whistle like a blackbird. Not the faintest murmur of approval or disapproval. They sit there solemn & imperturbable. Finally I begin to snort like a bull, then I prance like a fairy, then I strut like a peacock, & then realizing that I have no tail I quit. The only thing left to do is to read the Koran through at lightning speed, after which the weather reports, the Rime of the Ancient Mariner & the Book of Numbers." -Henry Miller, Black Spring, chapter Into the Night Life. . . (A Coney Island of the mind.)

Perhaps by 11pm tonight I will have turned a corner, fully woken up & the ability to at very least continue work on another story I am determined to finish titled: A One Night Stand. On my breaks, if the sky is clear, I like to track the star Arcturus. Soon, the country___ far out away from all the lights & pollution___ there are constellations I wish to map more clearly. Saint Dominic insists___, as he is strung around my neck.
As far as taking a break from work___ fuck it.