It had been months since I could have a good night sleep. I used to fall asleep as soon as my head hit the soft goose feathered pillow. But something changed that night. I would stare blank at the white ceilings. With heavy eyes and sore thoughts the nights would roll out.
All I wanted was to fucking fall asleep. I didn't care if I had nightmares or if I just slumber for a while.
I had tried it all. I ran as fast as I could to get my body as tired as possible. I had tried masturbating. I had smoked joints. Nothing seemed to keep me from being awake. I was slowly rotting inside. I could feel death calmly creeping underneath my bed as I laid still.
Was it the secrets? Was it the rain outside? Was it the full on booze nights I spent trying to black out?
I kept drowning in a sea of empty thoughts and eternal seconds. I was so empty.
Time passed and the bodily urge of pissing reminded me that I was awake.
Like a glitch in my system I hypnic jerked out of bed.
I rushed to the toilet. My dull self crawled in a lackadaisical fashion.
Once in the white room, I lowered my pajamas pants, and took my member out.
I leaned against the wall trying to make the whole situation bearable. Silence was golden. Suddenly I began pissing. And the pleasure reminded me that being awake was a blessing nobody really cherished. At least not me until that very moment.
I was more conscious than most people I knew. And I was able to enjoy, in the precarious of my situation, a mundane act.
"And I hope I can live another day", I thought.
Hermes Coldwell
11.12.2018
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