i’m not the type that does well on little sleep. i’ve got a pretty buoyant personality at times, like of late, and it requires maintenance. like sleep.
i prefer seven hours of sleep. six i can do. five is a stretch. it’s looking like five. i’m becoming embittered about this. i thought i should write it out.
i normally lie there and think about anything. everything. nothing.
sometimes i just picture black. there are other times when i’ll start giving the black a texture: astroturf. maybe velour. a long-haired cat’s tousled fur. burlap. just black.
sometimes i’ll think not really of my mom, but how she used to be when i couldn’t sleep or had nightmares. she was never impatient. ever. some of those times stand out now as my most positive remembrances of her.
there was one time, it was a hotel. victoria, bc, i think. maybe california. but a hotel. impersonal, cold, and flooded with the bad and crazy vibes of too many nights spent by too many people. i never did sleep well in hotels.
but i was a kid then, about seven or eight.
and this is what she’d do. she’d come in, take a seat by my side, brush the hair off my forehead, smile down to me. she’d have me pick an animal.
and a colour.
and... a name.
and she’d just start talking. “lulu liked golf. the golfers didn’t like lulu. not because they didn’t like her, but because she thundered when she walked. lulu the hippopotamus would wear her best tutu, the pink and purple one, every time she went golfing. she looked wonderful. but she was bigger than 6 people! every time she’d step, the balls would bounce...”
“ba-boom,” she’d say.
but i guess that’s not really an option right now. still, i like the memory. some days memories are so real you can smell ‘em. a touch of baby powder. a whiff of lavender.
i like the nice memories like that. it reminds me how fortunate i was to have a mother like her. a little short-changed on the time end of the deal, but what i lacked chronologically was more than made up for in substance.
and still, i’m awake.
i’ve tried some tricks. nice warm soak with some scented oils. some calcium/magnesium (it relaxes you). and i have a fluffy song on repeat, “don’t take your love away” by vast. it’s a good song, but it’s just the swirling melodies and gently exhilerating beat that i think should put me into a happy place soon.
and writing. and this is working. ah, yawn. mm. good.
with that, i take my leave. sleep, perchance to sleep.