Waking up has become a burden. There is a fleeting moment when I am whole again but it evaporates faster than summer rain on heated pavement. Then my lids, drooping and heavy with sleep, snap open violently. The darkness that should serve to mask the emptiness that surrounds me fails, leaving a lonely feeling of detachment. I’m left to explore in the empty void of emotions between asleep and awake.
I explore the cool sheets around me with my hands. Behind my eyes, pressed shut by the of my thumbs, I find a subtle awareness of my existence. There’s a flow of thoughts with loose connections to my waking life. Things to be done, answers to questions unasked, opinions, and recollections, alike. I spend long minutes analyzing every thought meticulously.
It’s strange; the ability for one’s being to lay lifeless and lazy while their mind bustles in the dark cavity of their head, roaring out like a caged tiger.
Some thoughts lay heavy, pressing onto the back of my face, bulging my eyes forward, beckoning me to retreat from the slums and make use of the fleeting time before me. Those thought must be subdued, broken down by absolute retreat. Without surrender they’ll be met with lighter plagues of the mind. The thoughts that whisper quietly, like a gust of wind from one inner-ear to the other and rest against my skull.
The two take turns, casting motion on my arms and legs. I wrestle covers and stomp my heels into the mattress. Then, in a moment, as swift as the snap of a picture, the thoughts dissipate, leaving no trace. If they are still in my head, the map that guides me to them lays remote, at the bottom of the now desolate cavity that is my mind, soiled in brain matter and unledgible.
My eyelids flicker open to the unlit room. I close them again, willing the carousel of thoughts to remain amist. I aggressively press my lids together as if to seal myself inside. I beg my mind to tumble back to dreams. Im keenly aware now of the time spent in this charade. The time now forever lost, without recall.
A squinted glare to the glowing red tones of my alarm clock mocks me.
With a deep inhale, my chest fills like a balloon stretched beyond its design. I part my lips. Ah…sweet release. My consciousness diving down. A free fall, swirling clouds of mumbled ideas. Retreat.
If only there was time left for it to last. When the sun light peers through my daek curtains, basking upon my face and the steady sirens of my alarm call me awake again, the short hours of slumber will portray themselves as merely minutes to my ill-rested mind.