A sign of a desire path is an indication of where urban planning has failed, but it’s also a marker of the stubborn human spirit. There’s a pretty solid one that cuts through the grass near Baker and the Stinky suites in Rice’s south colleges, and I’m surprised it hasn’t been upgraded to a sidewalk. Even with the lack of concrete reinforcements, I see hundreds of students cut that diagonal on the lawn every day —  These desire paths are a physical manifestation of the instinctual, unconscious nature of human desire.

Let’s take a look at unconscious desire through a less physical lens. If someone were to walk up to you while you were eating and asked, “Why are you eating?”, you’d probably be flabbergasted. “Because I’m hungry…?” would probably be your answer. We don’t ever stop to consider or question behaviors that we do on instinct, because it simply just doesn’t need an explanation. 

In essence, actions that we do on instinct, or ones that we do without having to actively make a decision, are done because our desire, whether that be subconscious or conscious, has already made that decision for us. This is why we often don’t think twice about cutting through a patch of grass (our desire is to get to a destination faster), why we don’t question our hunger  (our desire is to feel satiated again).

So, if acting on instinct (again, doing something without the need to justify it for ourselves) stems from an intrinsic desire, think about the last time you prioritized something other than sleep, and didn’t question it. Maybe it was a for a party — You wanted to hang out with your friends, it was Friday night, you wanted to have fun, and maybe there’s a little bit of FOMO sprinkled in. Maybe it was to complete an assignment — You want to pass the class, there’s no time tomorrow to do it, and it just has to get done. Or, maybe it was to finally start crocheting — That YouTube tutorial has been in your “Watch later” playlist for months, you don’t feel that tired, and it just feels like now is the moment to start.

With that, “How are you awake right now?” has been my top personal FAQ for the past couple years, and it’s been asked during two opposite times of day: “How are you awake right now?” during horrendously late nighttime hours, and “How are you awake right now?” during the day after I’ve spent no more than 30 minutes in actual REM sleep. 

The honest answer is still fuzzy — Is it out of spite, the need for (temporary) isolation, because I’m Batman, the need to create more time? All I know is that revenge bedtime procrastination has been my best friend for years, and sleep has been my sworn enemy, many years before I was aware of it.

The term “revenge bedtime procrastination” was first popularized through Twitter (and then thousands of screenshotted reuploads to Instagram), when journalist Daphne K. Lee translated it from the original Chinese term, 報復性熬夜 (bàofùxìng áoyè). Though who exactly coined the term is unclear, the phrase was first popularized in China to describe the physically draining, yet mentally liberating phenomenon of sacrificing sleep to spend time on leisure activities or hobbies that have been “procrastinated” on — In other words, if your waking hours are full of work, classes, or other obligations, the only other time available to do things truly for yourself is at night. Thus, you extend those hours by staying up late in the solace and freedom of nighttime.

Although we don’t realize it’s importance as much as we should (I’m guilty for this), sleep is the one thing that keeps our body and mind functioning and sane — So if you’re willing to sacrifice it for something else, this might be a hint that what you’re doing instead is something (or is reflective of something) you really care about.
I found that my revenge bedtime procrastination manifested itself during school nights, where I’d put on a K-drama I meant to watch half a year ago, and halfheartedly sketch a portrait of someone I found on Pinterest. It was my way of 1) staying relevant by watching semi-relevant shows, and 2) pursuing a passion that I had to push aside far too many times. 

I hypothesize three reasons why night is the time of choice for this self-revenge: 

First, time itself doesn’t seem to exist between those hours, or at least, it feels limitless. We confuse “today” and “tomorrow” when talking about the hours from midnight to 3AM (“See you tomorrow — I mean, today!”). The day truly ends when we allow ourselves to sleep, so it feels like we’re somehow creating more time by staying up later and later.

The second reason is due to society’s increasing insistence of busy culture. We feel the need to be productive and efficient with our time during the day, whether these be expectations set by our professors, peers, etc. If we choose to do our leisure activities during the day, most people feel like they’re wasting time since the daylight hours should be used for productivity. But, at night, there’s no limit.

Lastly, society has an unspoken commentary on what is considered “important,” and things such as the arts, self-care, and spending time on hobbies aren’t included. The comforting isolation that results when everyone else in the world is asleep makes it feel as though nobody is watching anymore — Nighttime feels like a shield from judgement, allowing you to pursue those “unconventional” passions, and steal some time back from society.

In essence, although it might feel like second nature to do so, what you sacrifice your sleep for can be very telling of where your true values, interests, and desires lie. Think of revenge bedtime procrastination as a mental desire path: You’re carving out a makeshift road to something you love, to something you’re determined to do, to something you crave. The revelations don’t have to be Nobel Prize-worthy, but just small realizations about yourself. In my case, as I’ve sampled, pursued, and tossed aside many paths for my future, I’ve recently found myself looking inwards to discover my values instead. Hundreds of these late nights have proven to me that I value creative expression, and that I truly love art despite pushing it away for so long — It’s something I’ll always come back to, regardless of how tired I am, or how crammed my schedule gets. And, whether I find art in my future profession, or as something I pursue on the side, I’ll always be grateful that I never gave up on it.

So, if anyone out there is procrastinating on sleep, just know that I’m right there with you, pencil and sketchbook in hand, with an arsenal of video essays to power through into the morning.