Ramblings of the Tired Mind.
Just some thoughts i had last night, while trying to fall asllep. It did'nt work to well, so i wrote some shit out, and this is some of it.
You see, I have to take heavy pills to sleep at night. I don't like it, but it must be done. My mind plays tricks on my sleeping pattern. I must have a very screw up pattern. One night i can sleep for three hours and be fine the next morning, or a seperate night i can get seven and be drained. I have even come to realise, i turn my alarm off, in a sleep-like state, unknowingly, until i later awake. I try to catch myself at it, but it is seemingly impossible.
I take pills to sleep, which i don't like. The normal counter pills hold nothing but nightmares and hyper activeness. I find myself giddy even, and wide awake. It seems i have what is refered to as the elderly-effect. That is to say i have the opposite effects of sleeping pills, which is commonly found in the elderly. This causes me to be more awake, hyper and giddy, but also causes me to crash harder. It can be a second of happiness and giddyness, followed by suicidal ideation. I think the crashing has more to do with my dysthymia as opposed to the pills. After a while i had so many variants perscribed, i decided to just do what ever it took. A few pills washed down with a few alcoholic dinrks, put me in a more calm, desired state. A relaxed possesion overtook my mind, and i was in a state of immunity. A state in which i could care less, but i was sure i was fine. These ceased to work to my desire what with mornings serving as war on me, and the effects lasting far too long. I had to come up with a new idea. Understand, though. I am just a simple girl, trying to get some goddamn needed sleep. It is not suicidal, depressive-i-hate-myself-and-wanna-die actions. No, those are a whole new world that lives inside us all at some point.
I happened upon a correct mixture of pills, through an accident a few weeks ago. I was given pain killers, which caused slight drowsiness. Thus, within a few days after i had recieved yet another type of pill that was a very nice rerlaxing and very strong muscle and skeletal relaxant, which doubled as a sleeping pill. It was not strong enough to put me to sleep, but it gave my system what all of the above, did not. It gave me a sort of lack of anything, and utter relaxation. Kinda like doing a very good session of yoga. This combination of effects were enough to place me in a deep sleep, and caused me to wake in a better atmosphere, at least in my own little world, the pills had a positive effect on my sleeping pattern. Alas, a cure!
I do not take them every night, as i do not want to be addicted or have to rely on them. It has many negative effects, which does cause my sleep pattern to once again, get screwed up. I have come to accept this screwed up sleep pattern, but i can not say how much it sucks! All i want is to lay in my bed and sleep, not be in motion of thoughts.
Oh, the odd things that make us think and cause us to speak!
What is to leave a name behind? What does that name mean? Where does it go? What is the point of knowing?
To live for a point, to make history, to be known. For who? For what? What is the greatest mystery of our being here? A life is a constant question.
We die in vain, each time. To keep a memory, and a name alive, for who, and why?
A man, Antti, dies. His daughter Taina keeps his ashes. She passes them on to the granddaughter, Antti never met. What is this granddaughter supposed to feel? In her hands she carries the urn that is her grandfather. A grandfather she never met. A grandfather she does'nt know. Her mother is dead, so why should she care to have her grandfather's urn?
We leave behind a short trail of those who knew us and those who care. To those to whom our lives meant something. Our memory is not immortalized, but harboured, for some time in to a few beings, and when those few beings die, themselves, the memories are destroyed, such is the person. A name, a face, a life is forgotten, and never remembered as the person they were.
Genealogy gives us a name, graves give us confirmation of existance. But what is the confimation? Where is the confimation of every person ever i existant? Those people who meant something to some one else. Like lovers. We do not know them, therefore our lives are in vain, as they cease not only in life but in history, forever. We can make music, art, political history, but for whom are we really remember for? When the world is no more and no one is born, where does those historical achievements go? Do they, for some, pave a cleared way in to Heaven? Or clear a path to righteousness? Not all believe in such ideas.
It seems all the little things matter very little, in the bigger picture, but the bigger picture is for ourselves to create. As cheesy as it soulds, we are given one life, and we do what ever we want, but you really have to wonder if living in all the conforming, if we truely take advantage, and live our life for ourselves.
So many people are beaten down by others words, and therefore do no get to live. Some would say it is too hard to go on, that they would feel more comfortable to sleep away in their room, in a depressant non-existant lifestyle. It is unfair. Some would say, 'well don't give a care for what others think because this is our life', and everyone has their own lifes. But are we not constantly trying to find a place to belong? Trying to find a like in others? In a form we do all conform, and there for, we harbour the fear, and forget to take advantage, and live out life as our own. But what is life? A living cell, is all we are. Any way you play it out, we're screwed in to life.