Ever familiar with the situation where you were so sleepy that you swear you felt the earth’s axis agitated for a few good seconds, but you had to brush it away because you had “more important things” to do, like for example, uh, playing possum? Right now I’m, what, so sleepy I think I’m actually having REM even with eyes wide-open, and there’s also this something that’s throbbing at the left side of my skull, screaming for dear sleep. I don’t want to sleep yet, that’s the thing. No I don’t really have “more important things” to do right now, other than perhaps for the fact that I should be sleeping right now. I don’ know, I’m just like, what, I’m going to sleep… AGAIN?
Half of my life, I have been sleeping. Imagine the feats I could have accomplished had I not been sprawled unconscious on bed all those time. I could have surely doubled my chances on achieving the hopes and wishes that I’ve only been content dreaming about all my life. I could have been where nobody else has ever dared to be. I could be fulfilling my life-long dream now of finding myself by getting lost. Heck by now I could have even found the Holy Grail.
That is, of course, if I haven’t ended up a vegetable zombie from severe lack of sleep.
Sure. Sleeping is important. One does not sleep for the next 20 hours and you can expect a mashed potato for a brain. Yeah; kids, go to sleep. But I insist on challenging myself. I want to annoy myself and thrive on the things that I will miss out on if my mind’s far away, in those burly arms of Morpheus, especially during these gloaming hours. I like that I hear the drizzling outside now, and am fantasizing of going out to streak into the night. Sounds stupid, an unimportant thing to many. But doing just that can mean the whole world to me. That would be a feather in my cap, streaking into the night while it’s raining.
Holy crap. Am I talking in metaphor again.
Really, if it weren’t for the out-the-window dreams during sleep, I don’t find anything more appealing about it than the rejuvenation and energy it provides. But then again that is beside my point . Wakefulness is wonderful, especially in the throes of the night. It’s so silent I can actually hear my own thoughts and not everybody else’s.
I would have loved the idea of just lying on bed all the time, slipping into slumber now and then for fear of incurring eyebags, pimples, bad skin, mental illness and the like but unfortunately… I’m too crass for that. And because I prefer my daydreams to be in action. Unless I’m really, really, really gonged-out and having a loveyl migraine then nothing could quiet my brainstorm.
Anyway, I think I have to go easy now on that little tin god banging away at the left of my skull. It’s pretty pointless to knock it away with my fist–it’s not gonna shoo away. Big deal. I once read about this guy who did not sleep for 11 straight days for experimental purposes and made a film documentation out of it. As for my part I’ve only been up for, what, 17 hours and I’m already expected to get a beauty rest?
What a slob.