At Rest
Insomnia. Dark everywhere. Without the distant whistling sound. Without the faint breathing of roommates. Without my own heartbeat.
My bed is a lone boat drifting slowly with the moon. Would the ocean be as tender as the beams?
There are countless nights that I stay awake, staring at my ceiling, daydreaming. it seems I don’t need sleep at noon, either night, even as a child. At first, I was a bit scared of the dark, but when I stared into it, trying to find what’s beneath it, somehow I felt it’s mysterious yet amazing. There’s nothing so it could be everything.
Nothing is special for the daytime, but there’s another order for the night. Drunk man, the radio sound, the withering shadows all come out. I see the lights down in a minute, the dancing of the stars, and the elevator rose up like a sky lantern outside of the halfway building. The night’s colorful outside my room, but how I wish the world is all dark. The light pollution! The dark sounds chaos with the rushing lights.
Every time I begin to reflect on myself, I would drop into that long, long night, these gone times. The inertia of Insomnia and daydreaming.