The clock in my laptop turns to 12.01 am and I realize,that
I CAN'T SLEEP.
Its as simple as that...Its been like this for about couple of months now.No matter how much I tried over the last couple of months to sleep at night I couldn't fall asleep, before 3am, barring a few nights(in which i was exceptionally tired).
It’s a funny thing. Even now I often find myself wide awake staring at the ceiling, and when my play-list runs out, it seems as though all I do is toss and turn. However, a wry irony lurks within such sleepless nights by which my restlessness ultimately becomes the fuel for all sorts of dreams — consciously wakeful though they may be.
Some nights I close my eyes and drift off somewhere between dreams and reality — into subconscious territory where I’m not exactly wide awake, but I’m not sleeping like a stone either. It’s a middle ground,between consciousness and slumber, an abstract reverie where I can see, hear and feel everything around me but cannot control what happens. During THESE nights I must prepare for anything because there is no telling what can happen.
Sometimes I’m yanked back into reality by the most nightmarish threads of illusion, dreadful night terrors that leave me out of breath with a lead hammer pounding inside my chest and a cold sweat. Sometimes I feel myself fighting out of fear, clawing my way through a veil of restless sleep that covers me like a film, yet I cannot manage to slice my way through the thin layer of leathery nightmare. Sometimes I wake up missing my old school days, gripped in a painful swirl of miserable heartache — as if time never healed those scars,and I end up missing ASB a lot more, all over again.
Of course this is all very unpleasant information and is thus, a rather depressing note to end a blog entry on.
However, I delight in the mere fact that being a dreamer often exempts me from the rules of reality and her consequences, be they good or bad — and I love how dreams propel the mind of the dreamer into imagining what the world might be like if such dreams were in fact reality. It’s a compelling thought and it keeps me on my toes. I love that.
All this to say — when my heavy lids finally surrender to the weight of any given day’s worth of living, breathing, working, doing and being, I savor the moment with a vigorous (though slightly reticent) taste in my mouth because, as I’ve mentioned before, there’s truly no telling what might happen.
Reality is a lovely place but I wouldn’t want to live there.
I CAN'T SLEEP.
Its as simple as that...Its been like this for about couple of months now.No matter how much I tried over the last couple of months to sleep at night I couldn't fall asleep, before 3am, barring a few nights(in which i was exceptionally tired).
 |
| this is ME |
It’s a funny thing. Even now I often find myself wide awake staring at the ceiling, and when my play-list runs out, it seems as though all I do is toss and turn. However, a wry irony lurks within such sleepless nights by which my restlessness ultimately becomes the fuel for all sorts of dreams — consciously wakeful though they may be.
Some nights I close my eyes and drift off somewhere between dreams and reality — into subconscious territory where I’m not exactly wide awake, but I’m not sleeping like a stone either. It’s a middle ground,between consciousness and slumber, an abstract reverie where I can see, hear and feel everything around me but cannot control what happens. During THESE nights I must prepare for anything because there is no telling what can happen.
Sometimes I’m yanked back into reality by the most nightmarish threads of illusion, dreadful night terrors that leave me out of breath with a lead hammer pounding inside my chest and a cold sweat. Sometimes I feel myself fighting out of fear, clawing my way through a veil of restless sleep that covers me like a film, yet I cannot manage to slice my way through the thin layer of leathery nightmare. Sometimes I wake up missing my old school days, gripped in a painful swirl of miserable heartache — as if time never healed those scars,and I end up missing ASB a lot more, all over again.
Of course this is all very unpleasant information and is thus, a rather depressing note to end a blog entry on.
However, I delight in the mere fact that being a dreamer often exempts me from the rules of reality and her consequences, be they good or bad — and I love how dreams propel the mind of the dreamer into imagining what the world might be like if such dreams were in fact reality. It’s a compelling thought and it keeps me on my toes. I love that.
All this to say — when my heavy lids finally surrender to the weight of any given day’s worth of living, breathing, working, doing and being, I savor the moment with a vigorous (though slightly reticent) taste in my mouth because, as I’ve mentioned before, there’s truly no telling what might happen.
Reality is a lovely place but I wouldn’t want to live there.
You love dreaming. I cant stand them. :)
ReplyDeleteNice hard-hitting home words there! Loved it!
@aurindam da: well my dreams,are kinda strange..to put it in perspective,,they are day dreams @nyt,wen i m staring blankly at the ceiling,,anyways,thanx da..:)
ReplyDeletethis happens with me also..its fun ..to dream like that ..when evry1 is sleeping .it jst peace , you and your dreams.
ReplyDelete