Yearn for sleep
But keep it at bay
That distant sirens song
Rest after a day of being
Keep it away
Give just a few more hours of wake
Tomorrow brings anxiety
Sours the taste of sleep
Makes everything a little worse
A little paler
Life drained out
Trapped and uncomfortable
Too much chatter
Not enough content
Not enough freedom
Going to work
Trapped with limited free will
Waking up every hour
Nightmares playing scenarios through my mind
Drink some water and descend into something so real that waking is relief
Thankful that I am peripheral player in each
But deeper past people I know until I breach some layer
And indelible images which make mock of decency
Play out as if I am a camera lens
Unable to act
Six punctuated hours of sleep
Six different nightmares
There is more sleep in me
But my endurance for nightmares is spent
I’m getting super stressed. Not because of the quarantine. I’ve adjusted to that. Gotten used to working from home in a t-shirt. Prior to this, outside of gym workouts, I haven’t worn a t-shirt in literal years. I’m comfortable. If I’m having a bad time of it, I go and hang out with my cat. I go outside and just soak up the sun.
I don’t have any of the social interaction stress. I don’t have to put on a false front. I don’t lose 2 hours a day to driving to and from work. I get more work done. I enjoy my work more.
But they are making us go back into the office. Effective Monday, May 18th. Because Americans are idiots. Because “the economy” is more important than lives. Because they only know how to fight the last war. Because politicians care more about their electability than the people they are supposed to be advocates for. And because corporations only care about the appearance of what is right and not the actuality of what is right.
So I’m stressed and not sleeping. I finally crashed Wednesday afternoon and woke up at midnight. Missing my posting deadline.
I hope you are all doing better. But, I’ll be honest, I can’t see how it will be better for a long time.
Blood forms perfect droplets on the plastic
Frantic to stop the bleeding
Even more so the pain
A blunt needle burrowing
Can’t feel the crash coming
Eyes press tightly
Mind breaks each morning
Trails of wetness
Feel blood pump through veins
One last trip
Until silence lasts
Depression is insidious. For me, when its not overwhelming sadness, it’s self destruction. It’s eating too much. Spending too much. Pushing too hard. Overcorrecting until people are sick of it. Or staying up way too late even when I recognize that I’m tired. Even when I’m falling asleep in my chair.
And the thing is, things aren’t bad. I’m anxious for a trip I have to take for work. Basically because there will be a ton of people there and I won’t have any social cover or retreat. Other than that, I’m good.
But still I push past endurance. Still I do this. Self destruction. In service to nothing. And, while I’ve gotten better down the years, I’m still not well. I don’t even know what well looks like. And it baffles me that there are people out in the world who have no idea what this is. They never feel like this. And if they do, they shake it off. Like it’s nothing, like it’s easy.
To me, they are aliens. I can’t relate to that frame of reference. I don’t know what it is. So we are aliens to each other. Describing the indiscribable. And getting lost in the words we can’t share.
And I wonder, how many dichotomies are like this? How many fundamental schisms of perspective are there?
We share this world, but I don’t think we live in the same one. And that is the hardest thing to accept and convey. The reason we are so fundamentally divided is that we have codified our stances as fundamental parts of our being. And so, every deviation is a existential fight for identity with no person or group able to give ground. Lest we are forced to redefine our self as other.
I despair for humanity. Not because I think we are doomed but because I see the downward trend. And I don’t know if we’ll make it out. I hope there is some angle I’m not seeing. Some truth that lays fallow and unknown waiting to bring forth life.
But still its late, and even now I procrastinate.
I can still get a couple of hours of sleep, maybe.
I can control me. And maybe that’s all we could ever do. And maybe that will need to be enough.
I had an awful horrible dream. I was downtown for first Friday(an art and food thing) but I was also down there to retake a class in grade school. As myself not as a kid. And the teacher had reserved me a place right at the front. Then an adjacent classroom played a famous jazz song super loud and she started acting and singing like a jazz singer but completely out aync with the music and she had somehow transformed into a 1930s flapper. And the room transformed from a classroom to an upperclass parlor. Her manservant came in and offered her cakes and food and she declined all but a black and white. Then I was driving. I parked an headed to work but not before reminiscing with the crossing guard that this area used to be all construction and I remember drinking beer at lunch with my father on the job(never happened).
I was then in an elevator up to my futuristic bedroom and I met my older brother there and we talked about the woman I was seeing. After I talked to him for a bit I found myself on my phone. Scrolling through various messaging systems and I realize that this person I’m seeing has ghosted me. And I feel heartbroken and lost, like one does. I wander and find myself in a music shop where I meet a DJ who is demoing progressive drum and bass but who buries signal for some underground movement in it. I go to buy a copy but to do so you have to get it mailed an I don’t have any stamps. I pull up google maps on my phone and we have an argument about big data. Then I head off and I decide fuck it. I don’t owe this guy anything so I head back to my car with the intention of going home. I arrive at my car and find the windshield plastered by pseudo official tickets because there was a blue arrow painted on the ground to indicating handicapped parking. That’s not a clear symbol or a legal one, so I’m like fuck it. Then the security guard wanders by and she says “thought you could slink away, huh”
Then my alarm rings. And I’m left with this feeling of failure and sadness on waking.
Sounds get stuck on my tongue
A few words waiting to be said
Waiting for some truth
As the stress mounts
Real sets in
Unsexiest of worries
About money reel and hopeful
What was can seldom be
Unless perfect storm and
All boats rise with prosperity
But so do they in calamity
And mindless ramblings for wars of desire combat against what’s possible
Until emergency depletes and scramble for purchase on dirt
Hard packed with indifference
Easy to live without the cost of living
Scramble for a place makes mock of all
Until only the memories stand sentinel
Around broken forms
After the fall
Kiss me sleeping
Heat and blinking
Insomnia and anxiety team up
Hope watching you sleep isn’t creepy
Too tired to close my eyes
Dreading the coming day
Freight train approaches
Standing on the tracks
No certainty but uncertainty
Looking towards that future
Wondering what’s next
A fish out of water
In a new pond
But too much
Becomes toxic shock
And no one notices until you’re gone
Seeing what happens
When the air gets thin
If a new lake will make things better
And sitting here awake
Too tired for dreaming
Hoping to see
To real-ize a future
Where being stuck won’t pass for
No one mourns the spider
Trapped by its own prison
Each change a shiver
Waking for maybes
For might haves
The next and the next
Waking from dreams
To find new responsibilities
Drowning bit by bit