3 AM Spirals

By Nadah Fathima

It starts innocently enough. One harmless question, the kind you could laugh off in daylight. But 3:03 am is governed by curiosity with no supervision.

So now I’m deep in a forum thread titled “avian cognition: are pigeons self-aware?” and suddenly this isn’t about the pigeon anymore. This is about me. Because if that pigeon does have thoughts, then what exactly did it mean by that look? Was it judgment? Recognition? Did it see something in me that I’m actively trying to ignore?

I close the tab. Immediately open another.

“Why do I remember embarrassing moments so vividly?”

And just like that, the door creaks open. The overthinking door.

Not a gentle opening. Not a polite knock. It swings wide like it’s been waiting for this exact moment. Suddenly, I’m not in my bed anymore. I’m back in every awkward conversation, every poorly timed joke, every moment where I said “you too” to a waiter who told me to enjoy my meal.

Remember that thing you said in 2018?

What about that time you waved back at someone who wasn’t waving at you?

What about that one sentence you wish you could physically erase from existence?

I sit there, staring at the ceiling like it personally betrayed me.

Another search.

“How to stop overthinking at night”

During the day, thoughts are polite. They wait their turn. They stay small, manageable. But at 3 am, they stretch out, take up space, start asking questions they’d never dare to ask in daylight.

And maybe that’s the point.

Maybe overthinking isn’t always a problem to fix. Maybe it’s just curiosity with no off switch. A mind that refuses to skim the surface, even when it really, really should.

Some people fall asleep. Some people replay conversations from five years ago like they’re studying for an exam that doesn’t exist.

We all have our things.

And somehow, unbelievably, I circle back.

“Do pigeons remember faces?”

It’s now 3:47 am. I have learned that pigeons can, in fact, recognize humans. Which means it didn’t just look at me. It remembered me. And now it probably has a story about me.

I have also learned that my brain cannot be trusted after midnight.

The world is quiet again. My questions remain unanswered. The pigeon, wherever it is, is probably asleep. Unbothered. Thriving.

Must be nice.

for The Exclusive,

Nadah Fathima.