"Sleep fights depression.", she typed.
"Sleep fights reality.", I replied.
IBDP (International Baccalaureate Diploma Program) has made me fall asleep on text books and during the most interesting classes, because I've had a lack of sleep for the last 2 years, almost everyday. Procrastinating can be blamed, but I still blame the IB and their tedious schedule.
For 3 days now, I've slept for about 13 hours everyday. It's strange that I choose to wile away precious time by sleeping instead of doing something more productive. Every morning, there is this fight which I have with myself. I compel myself to paint, to dance, to sketch, to write, to read, to at least watch TV, but through these tasks which are supposed to make me feel active, I just get affiliated to sleep a little more. It's interesting what sleep does to me. It's cozy and warm, and you feel like you're floating eventually. I've had nothing to do in the recent past, so I sleep. Is that the reason, really? No, I sleep because it is too hard to face myself all the time. These thoughts, these emotions, this want, this greed, these expectations, THIS REALITY. To fight this, I sleep. It's escapism, but such escapism is encouraged by me because I don't even want to face myself anymore. It's not tough or anything, it simply is not worth it. Now you might think, if it isn't worth it, then why think of it? Let me tell you a little something about reality that can't be forgotten whatsoever.
I broke hearts, because I didn't feel good. I changed, because I wanted to. I kept people at bay, because I enjoyed pizza better. I ignored, because I didn't want to accept. I just left, because I didn't want to stay.
Does that sound like a terrible person? You're all that person. At least one of those people. I am, too. If this sounds bad, speak of the past.
Got molested before getting my first period, got beaten up because he was more powerful, got badly parented, got bullied at school, never got enough of love, never could hold on to what was rightfully yours, never belonged, never loved
That sounds like a broken person. So much of the past hidden under layers of virtual happiness. One day, the day of epiphany, you'll tear up all those layers of unscathed history and succumb to your weakness and cry. Cry for as long as you can, because right now, nothing can ever change it.
"It's in the past, I don't care!", he told me. "It's my past, I care.", I grimly replied.
It's easy for people to say "Let go of the past, only then can you embrace the future." That's hilarious, human. Because I don't know how to let go of the past, neither am I going to learn. It makes me who I am.
A person alternating between being 9, 13 and 17 years of age.
"Idle mind is a devil's workshop!", my mother screamed at me when I was 10. I was sitting in the garden and staring at the stars on a beautiful night. She didn't know what I was thinking about then, she doesn't know now, she will never know ever. So, instead of sitting under the stars, doing nothing, but thinking, I chose to sleep. Because right now, I can't think of what I usually think of. I have nothing important to do, nothing that will change my life. So, I sleep.
And then there are dreams. Yes, and nightmares too. You all know neither will come true, but dreams excite and nightmares freak me out. But it doesn't mean that the fear of dreams never coming true, or nightmares coming true, will stop me from sleeping because like someone I know rightly said, "Sleep, for me, is sacrosanct."
For each of us, sleep means differently. To her it meant, fighting depression. To me it means to fight reality. To you, it might just be a necessity. But whatever it is, it helps. It helps me live. At least, right now.
"Sleep fights reality.", I replied.
IBDP (International Baccalaureate Diploma Program) has made me fall asleep on text books and during the most interesting classes, because I've had a lack of sleep for the last 2 years, almost everyday. Procrastinating can be blamed, but I still blame the IB and their tedious schedule.
For 3 days now, I've slept for about 13 hours everyday. It's strange that I choose to wile away precious time by sleeping instead of doing something more productive. Every morning, there is this fight which I have with myself. I compel myself to paint, to dance, to sketch, to write, to read, to at least watch TV, but through these tasks which are supposed to make me feel active, I just get affiliated to sleep a little more. It's interesting what sleep does to me. It's cozy and warm, and you feel like you're floating eventually. I've had nothing to do in the recent past, so I sleep. Is that the reason, really? No, I sleep because it is too hard to face myself all the time. These thoughts, these emotions, this want, this greed, these expectations, THIS REALITY. To fight this, I sleep. It's escapism, but such escapism is encouraged by me because I don't even want to face myself anymore. It's not tough or anything, it simply is not worth it. Now you might think, if it isn't worth it, then why think of it? Let me tell you a little something about reality that can't be forgotten whatsoever.
I broke hearts, because I didn't feel good. I changed, because I wanted to. I kept people at bay, because I enjoyed pizza better. I ignored, because I didn't want to accept. I just left, because I didn't want to stay.
Does that sound like a terrible person? You're all that person. At least one of those people. I am, too. If this sounds bad, speak of the past.
Got molested before getting my first period, got beaten up because he was more powerful, got badly parented, got bullied at school, never got enough of love, never could hold on to what was rightfully yours, never belonged, never loved
That sounds like a broken person. So much of the past hidden under layers of virtual happiness. One day, the day of epiphany, you'll tear up all those layers of unscathed history and succumb to your weakness and cry. Cry for as long as you can, because right now, nothing can ever change it.
"It's in the past, I don't care!", he told me. "It's my past, I care.", I grimly replied.
It's easy for people to say "Let go of the past, only then can you embrace the future." That's hilarious, human. Because I don't know how to let go of the past, neither am I going to learn. It makes me who I am.
A person alternating between being 9, 13 and 17 years of age.
"Idle mind is a devil's workshop!", my mother screamed at me when I was 10. I was sitting in the garden and staring at the stars on a beautiful night. She didn't know what I was thinking about then, she doesn't know now, she will never know ever. So, instead of sitting under the stars, doing nothing, but thinking, I chose to sleep. Because right now, I can't think of what I usually think of. I have nothing important to do, nothing that will change my life. So, I sleep.
And then there are dreams. Yes, and nightmares too. You all know neither will come true, but dreams excite and nightmares freak me out. But it doesn't mean that the fear of dreams never coming true, or nightmares coming true, will stop me from sleeping because like someone I know rightly said, "Sleep, for me, is sacrosanct."
For each of us, sleep means differently. To her it meant, fighting depression. To me it means to fight reality. To you, it might just be a necessity. But whatever it is, it helps. It helps me live. At least, right now.
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