the way one sleeps
i have recently started to sleep in my underwear. i hate wearing too much clothing when i sleep because it confines me. it mummifies my flesh during a time when dreams are supposed to lift me out of my body.
however, i cannot sleep naked because i have bits of me i want to conceal even when i'm alone in my room. it gives me a sense of safety, a kind of reassurance that despite the fact that most of me is exposed, i can hide what i want. i need that control. most of all, i would like to hide the fact that i am heart-achingly average.
i recently bought a 100% cashmere sweater in a horrendous baby blue colour; the kind of baby blue that isn't sweet and refreshing like the shade a mother would choose for a room after discovering her baby is a boy. it is a washed out blue, like a receding tide of gray water has dragged out some of the colour. it feels like heaven on my skin though, but not because it is soft like my torso is wrapped in clouds. i like that it feels posh and expensive, but i still stubbornly wear it as a pajama top.