Wakefulness.

Last night was another of those nights where sleep eluded me. It stood in a corner of the room and mocked me; mocked me for lying awake and restless as the seconds passed by.

It is a slow night, with every minute feeling like a long, leisurely hour. My head is muddled with thoughts – thoughts that echo of  insignificance and vagueness. As such, it is hard to ignore that finger pointing at me – the one accusing me of having given in to wakefulness. It is 0221 hours but the clock never stops ticking. Its voice – the sound made by its moving hands – crowds my head, disturbs my peace. (Its funny, yet wonderful, how every little sound gets to you enormously in the dead of the night.) The mosquitoes, however, never cease to sing their lullaby … little do they know that I have murder on my mind.

And then there is the discomfort of my awkward sleeping postures (Indeed they are less agreeable outside of slumber!).

Ah! What a wretched, restless night I pass. And how sad it is that I am going to lie awake for a little while longer – I know for sure – for I discovered that the scraping whispers of a graphite lead against paper isn’t very hypnotizing (I wish now, I had picked up something a little more advanced, like a pen, for a pen isn’t as noisy a complainer as a pencil! But then, I’ve always been a little in love with letters and pencils and grandfather clocks and fountain pens and aged paper and so!)

Unfortunately, my late-night-early-morning hunger is also kicking in now. No, I won’t go downstairs looking for something edible – this is just my brain fooling around with me. If I fall for it and eat, I’m sure to fall sick as I’m sure to pass this night, awake.

Now, I know this isn’t a great post and is somewhat an encore of things I’ve written in the past but still, shun all thought of it or you too will lose sleep.

Dream sweet.

– Meghna
Written on the 18th of October, 2013 at the time lost somewhere among the words above.

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