Into insomnia

It being an ungodly hour here, it seems a fair time to examine my lifelong battle with sleep.

Contrary to popular belief, I do not hate sleep; it is waking up that I have a problem with. Each day presents new difficulties, new challenges, new anxieties. So I avoid sleep in the hopes I might stave off tomorrow as long as possible. I daydream these nights away, imagining the clock striking three … then no more.

Ah, what a relief it would be!

The other side of the world could toil endlessly under an eternal sun, while I remain hidden in the forgiving darkness.

I could stroll the streets, mocking the closed stores; taunt me no more, accursed merchants. I cannot feel deprived if your offerings are forever unavailable. Likewise, the sleepers dreaming all around me; rejection by the unconscious is of little consequence.

I could scurry to an all-night convenience store and claim a bounty of sustenance from the poor fare on offer; it would not offend my senses, since there is nothing else on offer at this hour.

My phone does not ring or buzz or chirp; who is to disturb my thoughts at such a time? (thankfully, I keep no company that shares my insomniac affliction) No mail is delivered, nor any other notices. I am due nowhere, expected by none; I am my own man, free to do as I will without interference or hindrance.

Even the air itself seems more pleasant during the wee hours, perhaps because there are not so many fighting for their share of it. Perhaps it is due to the lack of vehicular traffic. Perhaps it is just a delusion, a sweet lie of indulgence. Whatever the case, I breathe it deeply as I wander the empty streets, reveling in the stillness.

The world becomes my stage, and I feel safe in the lack of an audience. This time is mine, to think and dream and ponder and wander as I will.

Soon, though, dawn will shatter my illusions, as it must. I best seek what sleep I can get before the trials of the day, the departure of the dark dream.

Until tonight, dear world, when you will be mine once again.

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~ by thedyingmoments on November 28, 2012.

One Response to “Into insomnia”

  1. “I am due nowhere, expected by none; I am my own man, free to do as I will without interference or hindrance.”
    … so poetic, my friend. imagine the freedom… beautiful.

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