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Insomnia

Can't sleep, it's always the same.

I get to my room, exhausted, lie in my bed,

Close my eyes and the Sleepless Fairy

decides to take the reins of the situation.

 

Maybe if I go to my computer and surf for a while

I could doze off. Maybe I'll go out and have a cigarette

to calm the Fairy. No, this insomnia is different. I can't fix it

with simple solutions.

 

This wakefulness is not due to the anxiety of an exam,

or the diffidence I have for that one girl I can't get out

of my head. This insomnia is that small sparkle of

uncertainty that has abounded my mind for a long time.

That feeling of vagueness, of yearning. Yearning of what?

I don't know.

 

It is simply that feeling that I'm missing something,

whatever it is. I go around the whole day in my mind,

what am I missing? What am I forgetting?

 

During the day I'm acquiescent, lucid, happy.

But come night... time to go to bed.

Time to perform the daily check for recent events.

Catalog the occurrences with different feelings,

accommodated to their respective memories.

 

But there's something missing.

 

I curse the Fairy and its 1001 tricks that keep me

awake and conscious about that which is in the

subconscious.

 

Will the day come when the Fairy shows up no more?

 

As long as that feeling is housed in me, like a parasite

clogged on its new victim, the Fairy will keep visiting.

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Written by
carlos-molina
Honduran
Published
Mar 29, 2013
Lines·Words
29·249
Tags
#depression#insomnia#existentialism#subconscious
Permission

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