It's quite funny that I have progressed from find-me-a-moving-car-with-air-conditioning-and-I'll-fall-asleep-like-a-baby-with-my-mouth-open to closet insomniac and bad dreamer. These days, with changes in work times and late shifts, sleep has been elusive, and for some reason, dreams have been a little less than pleasant.
It's just like everything else in life -- somethings you think will never leave you -- sleep, people, feelings, idealism. Then suddenly, things change, life gets a little difficult and you're struggling to keep up with everybody else and what you're supposed to be -- and you realize that small things have changed. You spend a little less time with real people, you stop worrying about what everyone else is talking about, and you try to stop expecting more than this from other people.
But I miss my sleep, I love my sleep! It was one of those things that I could boast about -- oh dude I can sleep anywhere! Ok I still can, but still. And I hate bad dreams. For the better part of my life, I was hardly plagued by nightmares, my nightly ventures were a sunny reflection of my spoilt existence. I had the occasional tsunami dream (for some reason) and sudden LTTE-attacks dream, but that was it. There was the one time I saw someone hacked to death, but well.
Now suddenly, I wake up with a start and thank God profusely that what I just experienced viscerally was just a dream, only a dream. It's worrying.
Random Emily Dickinson thought I picked up. Wanted to FB status this, but that would be followed up with a volley of well-meaning "Are you ok?"s from too many good people. This, I cannot be bothered dealing with. On another thought, I need to find more Emily Dickinson...she's strangely elusive on online poetry portals.
"A great Hope fell
There was no noise
The ruin was within"
For the whole poem, try
http://hayquaker1.blogspot.com/2011/09/great-hope-fell-emily-dickinson.html
On that happy note, Happy March, and all that.
It's just like everything else in life -- somethings you think will never leave you -- sleep, people, feelings, idealism. Then suddenly, things change, life gets a little difficult and you're struggling to keep up with everybody else and what you're supposed to be -- and you realize that small things have changed. You spend a little less time with real people, you stop worrying about what everyone else is talking about, and you try to stop expecting more than this from other people.
But I miss my sleep, I love my sleep! It was one of those things that I could boast about -- oh dude I can sleep anywhere! Ok I still can, but still. And I hate bad dreams. For the better part of my life, I was hardly plagued by nightmares, my nightly ventures were a sunny reflection of my spoilt existence. I had the occasional tsunami dream (for some reason) and sudden LTTE-attacks dream, but that was it. There was the one time I saw someone hacked to death, but well.
Now suddenly, I wake up with a start and thank God profusely that what I just experienced viscerally was just a dream, only a dream. It's worrying.
Random Emily Dickinson thought I picked up. Wanted to FB status this, but that would be followed up with a volley of well-meaning "Are you ok?"s from too many good people. This, I cannot be bothered dealing with. On another thought, I need to find more Emily Dickinson...she's strangely elusive on online poetry portals.
"A great Hope fell
There was no noise
The ruin was within"
For the whole poem, try
http://hayquaker1.blogspot.com/2011/09/great-hope-fell-emily-dickinson.html
On that happy note, Happy March, and all that.
