Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Insomnia

Silence. Deafening Silence. Silence so loud I cannot hear my own thoughts, Instead, words just clammer and smash into each other creating a quiet chaos, a derailment of order. Tornados, hurricanes and floods undo painstaking organization. Paper jam, misfeed. Ideas caught within a machine, misplaced, full of smeared black ink.

I try to catch the thoughts, to transport them into orderly patterns, recovery positions. Words, emotions, flying around me, entering and exiting as I inhale and exhale. Suddenly, I stop breathing, and the world calms around me. Gasp...inhale. In goes the day's worries, appointments, to do lists, heartache, madness. Exhale, the flames fueled by my oxygen, become chaotic and hot. I can't touch my own thoughts, they burn my mind  on the inside causing my organs to sweat.

Writing them down, my words, my loud silence, leaves me with blank pages, white with no black. A tombstone with no inscription. Death to thought. What comes with such death, but a plague that demonizes all words, ideas, thought. Sleep...close to death, sleep. Darkness prevails over the lightness of words and ideas. Words become dreams, forgotten experiences, nightmares, and haunting revelations. Ideas are soaked in reality and washed until dry.

No comments: