Rambelling

Lifted from a dream, like an angel cast from the heavens, I awoke. Squinting as I looked at the bright numbers from my cellfone I saw it was only a little after 5:00. With a sigh I rolled over hoping to fall back to sleep. The problem with sleep is that it never comes when you want it to, but always presents itself, inviting you when you want to stay awake. I laid there, staring at the 3D text screensaver that bounced around my cellfone screen on the other side of the bedroom, while my mind wandered, and thoughts began to appear in places they didn't belong. The worst, and most dangerous, part of the day lies at its beginning, when you're too tired to get out of bed, but too awake to fall back to sleep and the mind is free to go where it will. An entire lifetime passes in that state, as every "what if", "could have", and "maybe" steps out of hiding and takes control of the helm in a violent mutiny. The early morning's tear is more bitter then that of the night before.

In that darkness, in that state of consciousness, the shadows that the mind produces are immense. There is no end to the power of the demons that the mind summons. We are not free in our ability to reason, to decide, to think; we are enslaved by it. Bias toward the negativity of life, my consciousness holds me in constant fear of the future, insecurity of the present, and regrets of the past. The mind, an untamed entity, can never stay still.

I began to recall scenes from a dream that night, lying on the "tip of my tongue", too far from my reach to remember what it was. The same as it is every night. Only my subconscious holds any hope that remains within me, which only shows itself in unremembered scenes of a fictional life. Growing frustrated, and restless, I pulled myself out of bed, felt around for my lighter and cigarettes on the nightstand. Fumbled around with the package and lighter until I finally managed to get one pulled out and lit. Staring at the cigarette more then smoking it my mind continued in the dreamy stage of awakening where it forgets that it now has a body to control. I pulled the blanket around me as I realized how very cold it was in my room, I then remembered how hot it was when I had gone to sleep. I've yet to become accustomed to the unexplainable dramatic temperature changes in this single room. Finishing the cigarette I looked back at the clock, 7:30, the chorus of alarm clocks will begin in several minutes. Lying back down, almost immediately after falling to sleep, I was awoken by the buzzing and beeping of the array of alarm clocks that decorate my room. Slamming the snooze on each one of them I quietly laid there and prayed to God that the day will be bearable, tolerable; survivable. I then laughed at the likelihood that God really couldn't care less.