I can do this all night

The night draws on,

I couldn’t care less.

The world I am in is just for me,

Created by someone far away,

Hoping for someone like me to come along,

And love what they worked on,

Timelessly.

Don’t I owe them the courtesy?

The pages go by at an incredible speed,

While they spent far more than me,

Giving me this treasure.

I am absorbed,

It may not be the great work of some long-dead person,

But it amazes me,

Moving me to tears or laughter.

A book.

That is not enough to describe,

The feelings it can evoke in me.

It does not allow me to sleep,

Unputdownable.

I have no qualms,

I will continue until the aching loss of the last page registers.

Then I will sleep,

As the rest of the world around me is slowly coming to life,

The birds beginning their tweeting and chirping,

The early risers rising,

The lone vehicles zooming down my street.

But I,

I am asleep.

The thin line between…

Nervousness and anticipation. I can’t go to sleep. My mind is doing that thing where I lie down and it starts pushing all these terrifying and edifying thoughts into my consciousness. I can’t ignore the plans and lists it wants to make, of what I accomplished and didn’t, the constant snippy little to-do lists it makes without my consent. Once it leads me down the path, there is no turning back. I cannot stop the activity that has to kick in when I am tired, but too aware of what is going to happen the next day.

Is it just nervousness, that annoying feeling that makes me feel a little nauseas, and a lot like the world might end if I don’t get something right? Is it only because I am afraid of what is to come?

No. I see the opportunity to excel, I see a chance for me to do something new, I see the possibility of my winning. I feel anticipation. But my nervousness doesn’t leave me alone. They take turns, alternately imbuing me with confidence and fear. My mental activity must be paused so I can get a little rest. It has been an hour since my head began its journey on my pillow.

So I plug in my earphones and fall asleep to the songs  I love, drowning out my thoughts.

The Silence Strikes Back

The running water is a faint thing,
The tarpaulin waving in the silent wind is oddly quiet,
The hum of the refrigerator is louder;
But inconsequential
As I wait for sleep to drown out the

Silence;

It mocks my wakefulness
Knowing I pray for it in the chattering morning,
Giving me what I want
Hours too early and yet too late.