Exhaustion
On Saturday I slept. For 16 hours. Six-fucking-teen hours. I had promised to cook dinner, I had promised to do some more cleaning, I had promised to do a lot. And then I just slept. My dad said, they tried to wake me up - but no chance, I slept as if I were in coma. Actually, my sleep always is like that. It takes me less than ten seconds to fall asleep and then I'm dead for a couple of hours, you can demolish the house around me and I won't even twitch in my sleep. Or wait, I would, but not because I noticed anything that was going on around me but because I sleep like others do exercises. I move around, I fall off the bed, I hit the people who sleep with me, I get tangled in the sheets, I tear them apart. I only get the cheap sheets because they always get killed when I have them. Expensive sheets would be a total waste on me. My dreams are violently clear, real and full of color and non-existent nonsense. I remember them as if they're memories from just yesterday. And when I tell them it sounds terrible, but to me they never seem to be. Last night I dreamt that the ground was covered in tiny furry animals, little kittens, rabbits and baby birds, always baby birds. And I'm walking over them. My feet are bare and I feel their tiny bodies getting crushed under my feet, the gore and blood mixing with the dirt and sand of the road and blending into a disgusting pulp that squishes between my naked toes. It's a neutral dream, though. I'm not happy, I'm not afraid, I just walk. I'm not disgusted, either. I'm just walking over baby animals. I don't feel anything.
I've been tired these days. I feel as if I'm running over untouched snow. No footsteps to fill, but having to make them all on my own. The horizon never was this close but the effort to keep moving forward is great. Jump over your shadow, they say. Grow beyond yourself, they say. In my language - which seems to be more different to this one with each day I'm trying to deal with both. I read stuff and I forget in which language I read it. I hear stuff and I forget in which language I heard it. It's just pictures, loose threads, sudden emotional imprints in my mind.
I'm tired.
I'm lucky that I wake up just like I fall asleep, less then ten seconds.
It's once again freezing outside and what little we had of rain and sun and springtime is once again buried in the endless white that doesn't deserve the innocent name "snow" anymore. Because it's hell. I bet hell is actually so cold that you get burned by the ice - coldness is always the worse one. Only that I don't believe in anything like an afterlife. It takes less than ten seconds to falls asleep.
I've been tired these days. I feel as if I'm running over untouched snow. No footsteps to fill, but having to make them all on my own. The horizon never was this close but the effort to keep moving forward is great. Jump over your shadow, they say. Grow beyond yourself, they say. In my language - which seems to be more different to this one with each day I'm trying to deal with both. I read stuff and I forget in which language I read it. I hear stuff and I forget in which language I heard it. It's just pictures, loose threads, sudden emotional imprints in my mind.
I'm tired.
I'm lucky that I wake up just like I fall asleep, less then ten seconds.
It's once again freezing outside and what little we had of rain and sun and springtime is once again buried in the endless white that doesn't deserve the innocent name "snow" anymore. Because it's hell. I bet hell is actually so cold that you get burned by the ice - coldness is always the worse one. Only that I don't believe in anything like an afterlife. It takes less than ten seconds to falls asleep.