Because of my abnormal sleeping schedule and effed up body clock, I find it impossible to fall asleep before 11 in the evening. Which is a really bad and unhealthy practice especially now that the start of my classes is just right around the corner.
But I've always been a nocturnal.
The daylight seems to always have put me on autopilot, on pause somehow. I can never get started on the things I want to right away because it always seems as if the couch is pulling me back down every time I try to stand up. I love the day time, don't get me wrong, but my brain feels idle when the sun's out. My brain hates the heat almost as much as I do.
Which is why I always study and do my homework past 6 in the afternoon because that's the time when I start to get into the "zone". When the sun comes down, my brain just jolts into full-on awareness and focus that it makes me giddy.
My best thoughts always come deep at night, too. When everything has settled down and not everyone's awake. My mind just blasts away and I'm convinced I can do anything I set my mind to. Except to solve math problems. I can never be good at that, daytime or nighttime. Let's get real.
So I've had the habit of sleeping with a pen and my "thought notebook" just right above my head or on the shelf at the foot of my bed. Just in case I wouldn't get to sleep as soon as I expected to and I simply want to get something off my chest.
These are some of my "thoughts" last night that I scribbled down my thought notebook before I went to bed.
10:54 p.m.
You're as close as you could be
like something within my reach.
Yet your absence haunts me
your voice echoes, not truly gone
your scent lingers and I'm not really alone.
The ghost of what used to be
and what should have been
is trapped within the walls of
"you could have" and
"but you didn't"
the sour words that tickle my tongue
the unspoken ones hung in the air
reaching out and stagnant
not moving, constantly still
You're miles away
but you're terrifyingly close.
You're as close as you could be
like something within my reach.
Only in my mind, maybe.
But that's good enough for me.
11:17 p.m.
It's hard to be a rose
in a basket full of tulips
where the beauty of my petals
is shunned by my thorns.
i am feared to touch
and no one picks me up
so they opt for the tulips
with no walls to knock down
because a rose is too risky
to always have around.
I think it's important to preserve your thoughts. I just think it's a great way to keep track of whatever it is that's been taking up so much space in your head. It personally makes me feel lighter and it's almost as good as talking to an old friend who understands. I like how it's just between me, a pen and a piece of paper. I could be pouring my heart out or telling the deepest secret I have and no one will ever know.
And through my thought notebook, I could just read my previous thoughts. Thoughts that I probably didn't share to anyone, yet inked in one of the pages of my notebook. It's basically like flipping through my mind which I find amusing. I could be thinking one thing, and the next I could just completely disagree.
And I like how my thought notebook rests on a table in my room or occasionally on the shelf in the living room, unnoticed. The vault to my feelings and my unspoken words. I also like carrying it around, holding a part of me in my own two hands.
Maybe I'm just weird and probably need to get out more, but there's something really special about the way my notebook is a home for my unspoken words.
I'll probably be sharing more of my written works in the future once I get over being too much of a wimp to let other people in on my mind. It's not like I'm gonna crack my skull open and let you rummage through my brain. I meant that more on the figurative side. ;)
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