26.07.2002 | 12:51 p.m.
nadirs will turn into zeniths.

Every night it's the same old story. Minutes after I shut my eyes, I'm transported to a semi-conscious state where I meet up with an alter-ego. In hazy blackness, we talk about a lot of things. The inconsequential events of our lives, the eerie light house on Bandstand, the complexity of sexuality, absurd anecdotes, the nothingness of death. Just when we start getting engrossed, my usually liminal heart beat speeds up and I'm jolted back to the dim reality of air conditioning and coherency. Darkness elongates every second; restlessness possesses me as I turn from side to side trying to fall asleep. Or even to my previous state where everything is too bizarre to be good or bad. I kick off my blanket and rub my legs against each other to keep warm,and when that doesn't work, I pull the stifling blanket back on. The restlessness gets so bad that I begin to cry. My tears fall on the sheets in ominous silence, thwarting my desire to disappear into a dreamless sleep. I sit up and press my palms against my eyes until inky shapes dance merrily under my lids. When I let go and open my eyes, I have something to look at besides the shadow of the fan slicing the ceiling. I have to find something else to entertain myself soon. Reading is no good at ungodly hours like these. The sentences blur into abstract fantasies and I am convinced that all those words are meaninglessly juxtaposed.

And then I lie down again, on my stomach wishing it didn't hurt as much as it does. I close my eyes and do all the yoga relaxation techniques I know to do, but none of them work too well with me. Perhaps it's because I can't completely concentrate for too long. The mind was made for wandering, no matter what ancient Indian ascetics said. Eventually, after much inhaling and exhaling, sleep comes to me grudgingly. When I wake up, I wish I hadn't.

One of these days all of this will change. Darkness won't seem so foreboding, loneliness won't seem so amplified, and waking up won't be an ordeal. I'll make sure of that.

deja vu? | jamais vu?