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17 May 2012

The War On Sleep

EyeBall

After six days and seven nights my eyes were red and sore. I felt as though my skin was parchment and I was filled with electric bees. My head buzzed with empty space and I stood thinly at the centre. I was insulated by static mush in the midst of an electronic hive. I was thinking in a single stream of mercury. I was constantly in the frame; consolidating the one true IS. Just as easy as breathing – which is exactly what I was doing. I was the density of air and breathed by osmosis. Molecules of oxygen glowing luminescent purples and greens hummed around me. I absorbed the light through my skin in paroxysm of delight and realisation. The everything spoke to me and I vibrated on the words.

In the beginning was the spoken and the spoken was good. Words delineate and encapsulate. Words are the bricks of our universe and they cascaded through my mind to be filtered through my liquid consciousness. This was the high on high; close to the heavens and closer to the edge of oblivion. All this was more than I could translate into cohesive thought. I rolled a number and ate the smoke. The time had come for crashing and the horrors of the deep. Naked, inert and defenceless - sleep beckoned me with iron fingers and I was too weak to disobey. She took me down into dark oceans filled with forgotten dreams. I fought like a drowning man, but she took me hard and relentless into the deep. My cruel mistress, my unwanted lover – she’d always win out in the end.

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