April 7th, 2011

I take medication to sleep at night. My dreams are sepia toned. No one I know in my waking life ever appears in my dreams. They used to but not anymore.

I remember the essence of my dreams but not necessarily the message. Last night I was traveling in a foreign city. A strange woman with long dark hair wearing an ankle length apron appeared in the background. She seemed out of place. From another era. Her expression was stern. She was glancing down at something. She didn’t notice me.

I was in the light. She was surrounded by shadows. The scene didn’t bother me. Just a strange woman in an unwary situation that had nothing to do with me.

I woke up around six in the morning filled with sleepy anxiety. The worst kind. You’re still asleep but anxiety drags you from the warm, drowsy comfort of going back to sleep into the cold reality of being wide awake.

If I open my eyes without them slowly closing, then I know i’m awake. I hate that. I want to sleep a few more hours but now I’m just moving from one side to another, pushing in the pillows. Knowing it won’t work. The day is here and unfortunately, I’m awake.

I’m not always ready for another day. Like anything else, it takes preparation. If I’m up too early its weird. Sleep in too late and i wonder what it was I did to deserve such luxury. What did I do the night before so that i slept so late into the morning instead of waking to the sounds of birds beginning to chirp before sunrise? Exercise? Medication? Both?

I love to sleep. Being awake has its drawbacks but deep sleep has none. Even frivolous sleep has its moody advantages. Jet lag sleep has few substitutes.

Research indicates too much sleep isn’t healthy. About seven hours is more than enough. I’m more of a twelve hours on, twelve hours off man. I know thats too much sleep but screw it. If it kills me, fine. I’ll die cuddled up in a weightless comforter. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the last time I slept twelve hours but I do remember the pure, deep ecstasy of the experience. Even pills won’t put me down for twelve hours anymore.

I’m grateful for all the sleep I can grab. I’m a sleeper, not a waker. I love drifting off. I’m not always ready to float back in.

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