the mirror hangs itself
Aug. 12th, 2002 01:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thejunipertreeExpectation fills the air which I breathe. And I'm not entirely sure why. But, I feel as if I'm on the edge of a cliff. Waiting, just waiting for something.
It's not an unpleasant feeling, I don't think. It's just a stillness in the house. A hushed quiet. Like watching a clock's hands sweep slowly around its face.
I don't know if I'm waiting for an event, a communication, a sign. But, every so often my heart begins to race furiously in my chest and my hands tremble.
It could even just be a result of too much sleep. Sleep, with me, is either feast or famine. And lately I've been gorging myself at Morpheus's table. My days drift by listlessly, with early afternoon finding me still wrapped in my favourite blanket and a cat's purr rumbling quietly in my ear.
Hypersomnia, I am told, can be brought on by stress. The body is shutting itself down in an effort to preserve it. I sleep and sleep, only to wake feeling as if a truck has driven itself across my body.
In some ways, I wish it to stop. But, in others...my life becomes wonderous behind closed eyes. You still smile on my face. And you don't have a black demon gnawing its way through your guts. You live around the corner from me and you never existed. And I drift through this perfect half world with a whole and unbroken mind, free from delusion and weakness.
I'm going out to watch the stars.
It's not an unpleasant feeling, I don't think. It's just a stillness in the house. A hushed quiet. Like watching a clock's hands sweep slowly around its face.
I don't know if I'm waiting for an event, a communication, a sign. But, every so often my heart begins to race furiously in my chest and my hands tremble.
It could even just be a result of too much sleep. Sleep, with me, is either feast or famine. And lately I've been gorging myself at Morpheus's table. My days drift by listlessly, with early afternoon finding me still wrapped in my favourite blanket and a cat's purr rumbling quietly in my ear.
Hypersomnia, I am told, can be brought on by stress. The body is shutting itself down in an effort to preserve it. I sleep and sleep, only to wake feeling as if a truck has driven itself across my body.
In some ways, I wish it to stop. But, in others...my life becomes wonderous behind closed eyes. You still smile on my face. And you don't have a black demon gnawing its way through your guts. You live around the corner from me and you never existed. And I drift through this perfect half world with a whole and unbroken mind, free from delusion and weakness.
I'm going out to watch the stars.