Getting plagued by bad dreams is one thing but if the dreams are such a plague then what does one do except wake up every interval to shake them off and sleep again to dream something just as horrible.
It'd been a weird loop of animal tapeworm, television show, music and hospitals.
I don't know what kind of grotesque mishmash my psychology demanded and why my subconscious decided to deliver but my night was a tapestry of repugnant visuals of everything reprehensible and worst fears and I kept waking up every hour or so feeling hot, sometimes feeling cold, feeling for the bed under, groping for my cats and petting them every time I woke up, not so much because they wanted it but because I needed to be comforted.
There were dialogues, songs, people making conversation from some television series I've never watched except a few times I've sat with my in laws and in between all of that there were tapeworms, their hatching eggs and weird nausea that I only dreamt of because every time I woke up I felt fine, definitely not nauseous but extremely thirsty, and I woke up a whole lot.
It was sometime in the morning that I felt sleepy and so I was left to sleep because my restlessness didn't go unnoticed and since my insomnia is a constant source of worriment, people around have learnt to tread cautiously and let me be.
I slept a bit and stayed awake listening to morning sounds of others getting ready while my eyes tried to adjust to the reality because somewhere in my head I still got flashbacks of the dreams.
Well, hello Monday.
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