No it isn't a hallucination from your wakefuleness; it isn't an aberration, omen, or horrid thing approaching...it is an odd, gentle, blue, winged avian. He drifts down, through space and time, and as he approaches the floor of the "Vaper insomniacs-'up around the clock' thread a plain, brown, wooden perch, with a bevel cut across the quarter top of the "T" appears and he lazily floats down and lands on it with ease. A platinum "YB" medallion necklace around his neck begins to glow a soft and soothing bluish-mauve and you hear a deep, smooth, male, Latin, voice translating for him:
"Hail, lauds, and greetings Oh conscious ones who yearn for rest! It is at the behest of your sister, known to me as Reddhott booopy, that I sojourn to your Realm this morning. Peace be with you all. I, myself, am not associated with your malady but have a likening to it! I work a horrible schedule (Sun., Mon., and Tues. one week and Sun. Mon., Tues. AND Wednes. the alternating week) and labor from 5:00 P.M. - 5:00 A.M.! So I am no stranger to the wakeful watchfulness, and yearning for sweet rest, that accompanies those who arrive home, from a hard day's labor as the sun rises. Hence my visitation at this odd hour of the morning. I also send special greetings and a gracious "CAW!" to Redhott booopy! I come not to mock or scorn you. I come, instead, to ease, hopefully please, and somehow offer some small shard of relief, monotony breaking, or otherwise entertaining conjecture. I will visit you all again as soon as time, the Realms, and my path allow. But....Alas! I have many Realms to travel, even now, at this strange time. My most positive, supportive, relaxing, and balming wishes and energies I send to you all and leave you with a characteristic statement and a quotation."
YardByrd spreads his wings and as he levitates straight up his faithful, Realm traveling perch, melts into a liquid that evaporates. He raises on up, higher, and spreads his legs and talons wide. Turning his head to one side he strongly resembles a Russian Icon of a Firebird. He gently tucks his beak under one wing and pulls out a scroll in his bill. He drops the scroll.
You can hear his final sounds, as he wings out of sight and the scroll drops down, unfurls, and its message is displayed. "CAW!" Then gentle, soothing, smooth, loving, and caressing Byrd singing is heard until if softly fades.
"Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing,
Beloved from pole to pole!
To Mary Queen the praise be given!
She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven,
That slid into my soul."
~"The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" Samuel Taylor Coelridge