somniare.

sometimes, my head explodes

sleep altered May 31, 2008

Filed under: somniac — somniare @ 9:39 am

The unhappy have but hours, and these they lose.-Dryden

It stormed last night. The air is thick enough to drown in this morning. I opened the windows and filled the house with the earthy breeze, as if to replace the missing scents that make a home feel lived in. There are no more remnants of meals cooked, no hint of acrid carbon drifting in the air after blowing out the candles I lit before bed. This house screams of solitary confinement. One woman, possibly a child or two, once. No warmth, no love, no signs of life.

I woke up at 2:30 in the morning to the sounds of distant thunder. I walked downstairs and sat in my chair, staring off into space. For once, my rapid flip book memories had taken a break… too tired to go on, most likely. I mediated on the vacant space… contemplating the intricacies of the void. All senses dormant, I played a strange, silent game as I lurked on the periphery of an absurd alternate realm.

I thought to myself, “I’ll never sleep.”

Myself retorted, “I will, I just have to remember how.”

I packed up my mental baggage and dragged my broken soul back up to rest. As I laid in bed, I remembered how to sleep. To sleep, one must forget. I stopped the inner monologues, the mental televisions with broken channel changers, I evicted the deep cold of loneliness. From the top of my head to the tips of my toes, I tamed every biting ache, I pushed every ounce of tension to the empty side of the bed. In putting them to sleep, I had a partner. I slept with myself last night… I slept like the dead.

I’m awake now… and different.

There is no permanence in peace… but I certainly appreciate it more because it’s rare. To take a break from morbid meanderings and floundering hopelessness… nothing short of bliss.

If the sky can remember the sun after this storm, I can’t be one who has forgotten the light.

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“please stay” May 30, 2008

Filed under: from the mute to the deaf — somniare @ 8:21 pm

Among the ordinary associations we encounter day to day, occasionally something poignant sticks out. One small gesture, a short sentence, a word by itself, or even a barely audible sigh. We pick up on the subtle, ambiguous messages sent to us. From the messenger, they could be the last resort after the obvious screams have been unheard… but to us, the last breath is the most important of all.

There’s something more genuine in giving up than in anything else in this world. In resigning, there’s an opening. We are most raw when we’re letting go.

In my experience, I have given all I have… all I am… every emotion. I scream from the mountaintops in passion, misery, pain. Not one person has truly listened until the tragic sound of the towel hitting the floor echoed through their heads.

 

May 28, 2008

Filed under: Uncategorized — somniare @ 9:48 pm

















fuck it.

 

isolated

Filed under: from the mute to the deaf — somniare @ 5:50 pm

The islands we inhabit. Our gentle goodbyes whispered, eyes closed tight… just to forget where we are. The oceans surrounding… one could drown quickly being held so tight.

I need.

to drown.