Some days are not ordinary. Some are just about average. Some exceed your expectations and on some, you barely make it through. Today is one of those and all those days.
I woke up in the morning feeling inadequate, unhappy and dissatisfied. There is nothing that I am doing wrong but nothing felt right. I don't suppose anyone can relate to this bizarre emotion, perhaps everyone can. But that doesn't matter much today. Nothing does. This feeling of restlessness is all-consuming and selfish.
On most days I forget why I am here. I forget what I want and what I want to do. These days turn into months and then years. Then finally a day like today appears and I am filled with sorrow and helplessness. I don't ask any questions today because I know the questions and I can clearly see the answers. But I am overwhelmed by the wave of time that has overtaken me and this emotion that leaves me without warning, without a snooze alarm, awakening me less often than it does. Yes, comfort is comfortable. And contentment is overrated.
Someone else operates me today. I am not who I am when I am sleeping the rest of the days. Perhaps this is who I am really, and must be at all times. But sleeping comes naturally, and waking is such an effort. And I waste today in pin-pricking myself into wakefulness that I want should last this lifetime. Poke. Poke. Poke.
Eyes wide open.
I woke up in the morning feeling inadequate, unhappy and dissatisfied. There is nothing that I am doing wrong but nothing felt right. I don't suppose anyone can relate to this bizarre emotion, perhaps everyone can. But that doesn't matter much today. Nothing does. This feeling of restlessness is all-consuming and selfish.
On most days I forget why I am here. I forget what I want and what I want to do. These days turn into months and then years. Then finally a day like today appears and I am filled with sorrow and helplessness. I don't ask any questions today because I know the questions and I can clearly see the answers. But I am overwhelmed by the wave of time that has overtaken me and this emotion that leaves me without warning, without a snooze alarm, awakening me less often than it does. Yes, comfort is comfortable. And contentment is overrated.
Someone else operates me today. I am not who I am when I am sleeping the rest of the days. Perhaps this is who I am really, and must be at all times. But sleeping comes naturally, and waking is such an effort. And I waste today in pin-pricking myself into wakefulness that I want should last this lifetime. Poke. Poke. Poke.
Eyes wide open.
2 comments:
When you write, your words go deep into the reader's heart.
True indeed Natasha. And good that you reminded me of the 'sleep'.
But I wanted to remind you of the waking! ;)
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