I did this a lot in Korea, when insomnia would hit me real bad. Turn off all the lights, turn on a fan and lay down with soft and light music flowing lightly through my big headphones. It became a routine, a comfort. I've never been one for counting sheep; my brain doesn't do very well on something so cottony.
Insomnia or not, I feel change coming this fall. I am slowly moving my work schedule to first shift, though it's probably months away from happening fully. Yet now having regained two evenings during the week, I find myself at a loss. Leaving work before 10pm is foreign and it's hard to not worry that I'm doing something incorrectly. I come home and just lay around, accomplishing little and worrying about the lack of productivity.
But work and effort aren't productive if they serve no purpose, if I gain nothing from them. I can busy myself to death, but even I can't trick myself into believing that something useless I do is beautiful or purposed unless it intrinsically carries those properties with them.
If Object A <> quality X, even projecting the imagine of X upon A will all my might is only a further lesson in tilting at windmills.
So this fall, ostensibly a few weeks in already, is less a search for stability and instead should be redirected at at a grand journey to find purpose. Motivation. Reason.
And I lie in bed, eyes closed and body still, soaring through the clouds over sonic waves of anamnesis. Incorporeal and unshackled, ethereal as a sea of breath, I fly like a falling star in reverse, and somehow make my way off to sleep.
- Deus dormit [the god sleeps]
- Et liberi ignem faciunt [and the children light a flame]
- Numquam extinguet [he never dies,]
- Ne expergisci possit. [he can never awake.]
- Omnia dividit [the dear and]
- Tragoedia cara [lovable tragedy]
- Amandamque [divides everything.]
- Et nocte perpetua [In the endless night,]
- In desperatione [in desperation]
- Auroram videre potest [you may see the aurora]
- Manet tempus expergiscendi. [it's just the time to revive.]
