This is in fact afternoon or early evening as some might call it and sunset is but an hour away, and this might not be the time to rant about last night considering the small window reserved for nighttime rants is open but momentarily in mornings, yet this is hardly the place to observe correct rant protocols.
last night after my last post I so wholeheartedly wanted to sleep. Shutting my eyes, trying to zero in one one thought that'd soon dissolve and consolidate into one thick dream (or not) and I'd be sweetly humming a zzz tune.
This however was not to be. How could it? It's when you zealously anticipate sleep with a readiness so enthusiastic is exactly when it'll play the treacherous mistress given to lewd perfidiousness and refuse to pay you the minisculest attention you so richly deserve.
Well, I kept imploring. Lying prostrate in a meditative husk, even mistakenly going as far as to invoke the damned infidel, but No. That miserable chatelaine wouldn't as much as blow a kiss in my direction and so I lay.. awake.
I'd shut my eyes hard to kill all thoughts and it felt like I'd inadvertantly in doing so opened the memory floodgates that threatened to drown me in tormenting desolation.
I'd but the cat keeping me company in my sleeplessness. That nocturnal creature lay awake, sitting quietly by my side, gently purring and sharing warmth.
Just when I thought I'd glided unseen, uninvited in sleepy realm, I was rudely banished without a single explanation. That's when I woke up with a parched throat and thoughts I thought I'd slept on still lingering in my head.
I was not for a single moment completely asleep throughout the night.
It was a static limbo, the best that could be offered my way; where my dreams were a mirror echo of what was going on in my mind. None of that dreamy/nightmarish absurdity. Just a straight simple reality that kept hammering into me that I wasn't asleep.
Sometime in the morning when I felt that ashen light had begun feeding on retreating dark I heard a meow and knew it to be the cat's time to be let out.
Once he was gone I ran back into my bed, fitting neatly in the exact same warm spot I'd left not moments ago, encouraged to sleep, going so far as to reassure myself that now is the time you finally get a shuteye. But of course I was way over my head with optimism and all I did for the next two hour after was shuffle my sleepy position, while keeping eyes shut, tossing and turning and feeling wary of my shoulders and arms getting in between a perfect sleeping posture.
Finally I let go and caved in to reality. The usual routine followed with an added vibration of sussurating ache between my shoulder blades and legs.
And what am I if not a recurring masochist. Through all that I did I hefty workout that helped crumble whatever was left of my smarting visage. Throbbing with fresher ache and sore in places I didn't think I'd have the pleasure of knowing, I sit and listen to what's left of the audiobook 'razor girl'.
The only consolation is that this meritorious fresh pain has mostly camouflaged last night's anguish
last night after my last post I so wholeheartedly wanted to sleep. Shutting my eyes, trying to zero in one one thought that'd soon dissolve and consolidate into one thick dream (or not) and I'd be sweetly humming a zzz tune.
This however was not to be. How could it? It's when you zealously anticipate sleep with a readiness so enthusiastic is exactly when it'll play the treacherous mistress given to lewd perfidiousness and refuse to pay you the minisculest attention you so richly deserve.
Well, I kept imploring. Lying prostrate in a meditative husk, even mistakenly going as far as to invoke the damned infidel, but No. That miserable chatelaine wouldn't as much as blow a kiss in my direction and so I lay.. awake.
I'd shut my eyes hard to kill all thoughts and it felt like I'd inadvertantly in doing so opened the memory floodgates that threatened to drown me in tormenting desolation.
I'd but the cat keeping me company in my sleeplessness. That nocturnal creature lay awake, sitting quietly by my side, gently purring and sharing warmth.
Just when I thought I'd glided unseen, uninvited in sleepy realm, I was rudely banished without a single explanation. That's when I woke up with a parched throat and thoughts I thought I'd slept on still lingering in my head.
I was not for a single moment completely asleep throughout the night.
It was a static limbo, the best that could be offered my way; where my dreams were a mirror echo of what was going on in my mind. None of that dreamy/nightmarish absurdity. Just a straight simple reality that kept hammering into me that I wasn't asleep.
Sometime in the morning when I felt that ashen light had begun feeding on retreating dark I heard a meow and knew it to be the cat's time to be let out.
Once he was gone I ran back into my bed, fitting neatly in the exact same warm spot I'd left not moments ago, encouraged to sleep, going so far as to reassure myself that now is the time you finally get a shuteye. But of course I was way over my head with optimism and all I did for the next two hour after was shuffle my sleepy position, while keeping eyes shut, tossing and turning and feeling wary of my shoulders and arms getting in between a perfect sleeping posture.
Finally I let go and caved in to reality. The usual routine followed with an added vibration of sussurating ache between my shoulder blades and legs.
And what am I if not a recurring masochist. Through all that I did I hefty workout that helped crumble whatever was left of my smarting visage. Throbbing with fresher ache and sore in places I didn't think I'd have the pleasure of knowing, I sit and listen to what's left of the audiobook 'razor girl'.
The only consolation is that this meritorious fresh pain has mostly camouflaged last night's anguish
No comments:
Post a Comment