Often, as the world succumbs to slumber, I find myself tangled in the threads of wakefulness. The darkness becomes my companion, wrapping around me like a heavy cloak, suffocating any hopes of rest. I toss and turn, the weight of the day’s worries pressing down on me, each thought a pebble in the pond of my mind, rippling through the stillness of the night.
The clock ticks relentlessly, its rhythmic cadence mocking my futile attempts to find peace. Outside, the world is silent, yet within me, a cacophony of thoughts swirls, a never-ending symphony of anxiety and uncertainty.
I envy those who drift effortlessly into dreams, their minds untethered from the burdens of reality. For me, sleep is a distant shore, always just out of reach, teasing me with its elusive promise of respite.
I stare at the ceiling, counting the cracks in the plaster, tracing their jagged lines like a map of my restless mind. Shadows dance across the room, playing tricks on my tired eyes, morphing into specters of my fears and insecurities.
The night stretches on endlessly, each hour dragging like a weight tied to my weary soul. I long to escape this purgatory of insomnia, to find solace in the embrace of sleep. But it eludes me, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand, leaving me stranded in the darkness of my own mind.
And so, I resign myself to another night of restless tossing and turning, trapped in the liminal space between consciousness and dreams. For sleep may come to others easily, but for me, it remains an elusive and enigmatic stranger, forever just beyond my grasp.
The CJBuzz 