Sleep

I've recently experienced some difficulties in relation to my sleep patterns, and inevitably have struggled to wake most mornings. In an effort to correct this, I experienced some rather baffling occurances yesterday. As usual, I had arrived at work late, and reprimanded myself for such laziness, declaring that from this day forth I would start acting like a proper human being should; going to sleep early, waking on time, arriving at work promptly, and handing my days over to capitalism and my master.

On the journey home, the warmth of my crushed peers inside my central line train made me feel drowsy, and soon enough, I had dozed off into some kind of part-awake, part-asleep, part-trance-like state that only besieges me on public transport. I dreamt of green fields, a spring day, and the experience of contented nothingness. Whilst dreaming such things, I began to hear some ethereal music playing out of my ipod, which left me feeling further pleased with myself. I didn't realise I had such a fine choice of music on my ipod, and wow did it sound good now that it was appearing via my dreams. It sounded other worldly. I awoke two stops from home when a phone conversation of a fellow passenger - we were now overground - regarding what Dave had said about Kirsty behind her back had wormed its way into my dreams, ejecting me from paradise and back into the cattle class transportation that has become my second home.

At least the ethereal music kept playing, but it was beginning to die down, I went for my ipod to turn the volume up. And grasped a pocket full of air. I then realised I didn't have my ipod in, yet this music, that sounded so alive surrounded me. Was I in a half-dream like state? I began to panic slightly, and once calm found myself fighting the wind on my walk home. Where had the last 5 minutes of my journey gone? Where had the last 5 years gone, my id responded.

I arrived home, ate, had a shower, and once finalising my animalistic necessities, decided to do something that differentiates me from said animals, and logged onto facebook.

I was immediately struck down by something I find difficult to describe, as my newsfeed presented to me photos of my ex-girlfriend - the only girl I ever cared for - getting married. I really tried to find feelings of nostalgia in me, or hurt, or even happiness, but all I could feel was that she really shouldn't have chosen a 1930s vintage dress for her wedding. I was depressed by the photos, which resembled a past-gone era, shot in grainy film, where the whole world was murdering each other at a rate never before seen and poverty was a gift everyone could enjoy. I began to type my feelings in a message to her, before resolutely deleting this message before I had sent it. I didn't want to waste my time seeming like a bitter bastard, when in fact it would have been a political and economic observation, and so I did the right thing and deleted. I asked myself where the last minute had gone. It had gone where the last 8 hours had gone.

I occupied myself for the next hour by watching quality arts programming, such as 'Britains Young Hairdresser of the Year' before retiring to bed.

I dreamt I was at the poker tables, and kept getting dealt great hands. Rockets, Kings, Queens, Big Slick. And always cracked by the hammer. I awoke on time, hit the snooze on the alarm clock and felt great. I ate breakfast feeling light, feeling like I was floating on air. Then I heard an alarm noise. And awoke again. I was still in bed. I had dreamt I had gotten up. My physical urges for more sleep had outsmarted me. I didn't feel very good, and wondered where the night had gone, the last 12 hours since I had left work. I looked in the mirror, brushed my teeth. Where had the last 12 years gone...