Of dreams I will relate though this method of communication is so impersonal that when you are to read this account you are likely to be detached utterly from what is spoken. On account of dreams I write. This account I tell you. Only you.
Dreams, of course, are expected to be experienced within the state of sleep. Most find themselves intrigued of vivid colors, poignant episodes, and violent ends all within a state of rest or what one might wish to call rest. You would expect then, of course, for this account to differ in no way from the typical expression that most simpletons try to relate after rousing from their slumber. Wrongly you supposed.
I attempted sleep. Surely I did. Hours of restless turning and looking at the clock again. And yet again. The night was so dark and the numbers radiated from the clock as if they were hanging mid air. Blasted clock. So I threw a pillow at it landing both in the floor.
Finding it hopeless to hope for sleep, I arose slowly placing both feet into my luscious rug. It was times such as these I pleasured at my withholding no expense in the decor of my bedroom. Who wishes to wake during the night to plop ones feet onto icy, cold tile? None that I know. Given up entirely on the prospect of rest, I decided that opposing sleep seemed the next logical option. Throwing garments this way and that, I approached the shower basking in the bright light, hot water, and steam that followed.
Most would agree that between the bright lights, the shock of water, and the general act of cleaning oneself, it should be impossible to fall asleep in the shower. Therefore, it is my belief, I did not. I never shut my eyes; well, perhaps for one moment.
-To Be Continued-
No comments:
Post a Comment