Sleeping hasn't been kind to me.
Five hours is standard, seven is a luxury.
Today I had eight hours of quality hibernation.
If I didn't, I'd prolly see things like Tyler Durden.
It has nothing to do with the warm milk
that makes my stomach grumble,
the food supplement
that makes my eyelids heavier,
the freshly cleaned sheets
when I did laundry earlier,
nor the chunks of food I gobbled
so I'm one comatose away from slumber.
You see, getting sleep after being so tired
is easy. I'm always tired.
But having it longer? I don't know.
Maybe sleeping is better when your mind is at peace.
Ironic, that speaking to a restless spirit
from a Stephen King book
calmed my mind.
Its unbounded mystery nonchalantly weeps
a declaration of war to the tasteless masses,
yet an omniscient concern for the weak
is felt highly in its presence.
What a beautiful wedding!
Perhaps it's dumb luck when I,
a mortal who choose
to sleep when the sun is up,
as a necessity
Made contact with an enigma
a darkness who choose
to sleep when the sun is up,
as a protest.
Is unfolding realms unknown
the catalyst to my inner peace?
Or this particular realm unknown
is peace incarnate?
#AgostoKoSariliKo [Day 19/31] Self love is self expressionism.
Agosto ko Sarili ko is part of a healing and continuous reinvention process where I am forcing myself, day to day deadlines ala Nas Daily, of any creative work for the entire month of August. Why don't you do it as well or if you want we can collaborate? Hit me up. 😁
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