my cells would regenerate,                                                                                                                                           my mind would recuperate,                                                                                                                                                    my tears might evaporate

I’m lying on a cloud.

Nope, that’s just my bed.

Are my eyes open or closed? It’s so dark I can’t even tell. They must be open, I can feel a gentle breeze stinging them. I blink. The cold, dry breeze goes away for a split second and then it’s back, battling the warm sheets of tears.

Why can’t my eyelids stay shut? The breeze is causing the back of my eyes to prick and my head to pain.

To gather some warmth, I roll my eyeballs east and west, north and south. I am looking at a sheet of black as though my eyes were shut and yet that gentle breeze insists that they aren’t.

My mind could just stop functioning if that breeze were not there. I could drift into meaningful sleep and my cells would regenerate, my mind would recuperate and my tears might evaporate.

If only sleep were as simple as counting the bleats and hops of sheep. If only sleep were as simple as finding a good bed and immersing yourself in darkness. It seems that sleep must be earned.

To sleep, you cannot stress. You cannot think too much. To sleep, you must meditate. You must find time to relax. You cannot be working through the night. Sleep must be continuous and consistent. Sleep must be earned.

Why do people fear death? Sleep is just like death. The shutting down of all bodily functions. Your body simply breathes and dreams. Sleep is just death with a heartbeat.

And yet everyone is so afraid of death. Death is what I yearn for. Just to die peacefully one night and to awaken as though I did not just experience total paralysis.

It’s to not stare into blackness at 4:00am wondering whether or not your years of life are slowly depleting. It’s being able to get through the day without feeling as though there is a piece of lead in your head trying to fling you to the ground and force your eyes to shut. It’s having a mind that can focus so deeply that it remembers even the smallest details, like the color of the car that just passed around the corner. It’s being able to smile in the morning when you feel the sunlight on your face. It’s being able to be awake when you’re supposed to be and to be asleep when you’re supposed to be.

But I guess it’s not all dark and doom. There’s a peace that comes with insomnia. Maybe it’s the peace that holds my eyelids open every night. To be afloat and alive when all the world is dead. Your mind becomes a luminous candle in an endless cave.

All of your raging thoughts run out by the time it’s morning and your mind just dwells in numbness. There are no consequences for having an inactive, unimaginative, broken mind. You can stare into the darkness for hours, liquid time sloshing around in your mind and the world stays dark. You stay alone but you also stay at peace.

It’s the night that brings out emotion and then grabs hold and rocks my body until my tears are dry. My sheets are damp but my mind is like a desert. I prefer it that way because the sheets dry before I can fall asleep but my mind manages to retain it’s moisture for weeks or even months. It’s better when the water is released. It’s better to let it all go.

Maybe I don’t need sleep. The night gives me comfort.

I’ll give it my concentration. I’ll give the night my years.                                                                                             I’ll give the night my everything if it is there to hear my tears.


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