Tonight, sleep is an activity my mind and body are unwilling to accept. I lay, I breathe, I wait. For some unbeknown reason I can’t let myself fall into the dark slumber that so many welcome. I simply cannot let go. No doubt I want to. No doubt I need to. There is just something niggling away at my stomach that’s teasing my mind, infuriating it, leading it to a place of confusion, which has left the rest my body feeling anxious. I contemplate every facit of my emotions to find where all of this is materialising. I only feel more confused and frustrated. This is not helping. So I try to let go, breathe and be still. Nope, the stomach is still knotted, defying relaxation and screaming out that something is not quite right, you are not ready to sleep. Okay, reassess. Blankness. Impatience is now knotting my stomach further. I turn to music and begin conscious dreaming in the hope that my mind will carry this on into sleep. Damn. My thought patterns are heightened, I’m analysing every scape that each song has to offer, letting the grooves wash over my body, tantalizing every one of my nerves. Although I’m feeling good, I am not relaxed. The hunger has been ignited and I want to listen to more. Sleep is not welcome. Breathe. Sigh. Time to step into the cold and have a cigarette. This a pathetic attempt to make my body feel tired. Deep down I know this is only going to stimulate me further. It did. During this break a song has become a new obsession. Organic, electronic, lacing a never ending pathway to my ponderings. I come back inside, sit, open my laptop, open this document and begin to write this dribble in an effort to find some form of conclusion. Nothing. So what to do? Cigarette break. Reassess. Silence. I’ve got nothing. Fuck.
It’s time to exercise some patience and lay back down. I'm letting go and feeding the hunger by listening to more music. No need to complain anymore. Good night.
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