Colors of Insomnia
The dark quiet hours of the night. Even the hazy wasteland of the day turns into a beautiful creation. I see nighttime through the fractured lense of an occasional insomniac. People sleep when I stir. I doze as others awaken. I never know whether this is becoming into an habit or this is just the heat not letting peaceful sleep surround me. Even the online world is quiet at my normal midnight. My loved ones certainly are. The dark of night has exclusive hold on feelings and sensations the daylight can vanquish. A loneliness born of half dreams and a mind left defenseless by an exhaustion too complete for mere sleep. You would think that – after someone spends several days with little sleep at night and reaches the point where he can’t finish a sentence and his brain is mushy enough to be mistaken for cottage cheese – well, you would think he would easily fall asleep the instant he falls back into bed. You would think that. But I don't. I long for the beautiful night in a place un