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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1808562-A-Sleepy-Battle
Rated: ASR · Documentary · Biographical · #1808562
Latent pleasures of resisting sleep
I yawn but I don’t want to sleep. Each yawn arrests my mouth, unhinging the jaw and buckling the muscles. Water glazes over my eyes but sleep isn’t ready for me. I don’t need it yet. I will only rest once I need it and it isn’t now.



A sleep which remedies enwraps the body, into every limb, soothing the day’s wear. Anything less isn’t earned and is too easy. My eyes haven’t forgiven me for this. They turn a protest red and have made their own beds under my eyes. These pillows hang heavy with indignation and wrestle the fatigue into my face like overworked clay. Inevitable as a fight was, I suspect they’ve always carried resentment. For all the quotes devoted to the beauty of eyes, I feel my eyes would fall short of every one of them. They are small and dark, hiding all the wondrous complexities of a lighter coloured iris. They failed to be the prominent feature of my face and are more a manhole than a gateway into the soul, it is clear they feel cheated.



My head is yearning now. The novelty of extending the day with the night is dwindling and I’m tired. We are close. Everything is unpleasant and consciousness has nothing to offer me. My body twists and clings to the support of the chair. Some way of lessening the burden. Maybe it is time, I yawn a long, deeply inhaled yawn. My wait has become torturous and the only escape is sleep. I’m ready.



The climb into bed makes my body whimper. I did well, this sleep will absorb me. I close my eyes. They are beaten and confused; they try to chase the vision of my imagination. I tell them it’s impossible for them to see the visions.‘You can only see darkness’ I say and they roll back and hurt me.  My mind is confused also; it works quickly trying to sort the memories of the day. An attempt to catch up on the time I deprived it from. Images flash through my head like a riffled deck of cards. It was a slow day, I was lazy and there was nothing to do. My brain would do well not to waste its time on these useless events. It doesn’t listen. I have no strength anymore. I need everything to calm, my body stretches and the pain distracts my thoughts. Quickly everything slows and unknowingly I meet my sleep.


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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1808562-A-Sleepy-Battle