He was sitting there- staring out of the window- staring at the darkness that engulfed his surroundings- staring at the clouds that covered a full moon- staring at the lamp burning miles from where he sat- staring blankly was he…
Sleep seemed like a dream, a longing, and a distinct, almost impossible, possibility. The fact that he hadn’t slept in seven days did not seem to take its toll on him at all. He looked fresh, vigorous, vivacious and vibrant despite sitting idly besides the window. He wanted to open the glass pane of the window but was afraid- afraid of the cold breeze- afraid of its effects on his sleepless sleep.
Yes! Sleepless sleep: He was awake yet in a dream- he was tired yet energetic- he was confused yet clearheaded- he was surrounded by a plethora of contradictions. At this point in time he did not want to think pragmatically- he wanted to be a dreamer, an escapist, an idealist…
Deep in the shadows of the darkness, someone was screaming for help, yelling for assistance, hollering for care. He didn’t respond-
His problem?
He was tired- tired to care- tired of being there.
He had become indifferent, numb, and aloof to all the occurrences even in his own street. In the background, The Cranberries were playing ‘Dreams’ on the radio- their sound extenuating any chance of him hearing the call for help. May be he could hear the voice but was not willing to respond. May be he never heard the call. May be he was just being an apathetic…
Clouds roared with earsplitting thunders- Raindrops started hitting the glass-window blurring his vision. Maybe it was raindrops that blurred his vision or maybe his lack of sleep was eventually catching up on him. He closed his eyes for the first time in seven days…
Sleep seemed like a dream, a longing, and a distinct, almost impossible, possibility. The fact that he hadn’t slept in seven days did not seem to take its toll on him at all. He looked fresh, vigorous, vivacious and vibrant despite sitting idly besides the window. He wanted to open the glass pane of the window but was afraid- afraid of the cold breeze- afraid of its effects on his sleepless sleep.
Yes! Sleepless sleep: He was awake yet in a dream- he was tired yet energetic- he was confused yet clearheaded- he was surrounded by a plethora of contradictions. At this point in time he did not want to think pragmatically- he wanted to be a dreamer, an escapist, an idealist…
Deep in the shadows of the darkness, someone was screaming for help, yelling for assistance, hollering for care. He didn’t respond-
His problem?
He was tired- tired to care- tired of being there.
He had become indifferent, numb, and aloof to all the occurrences even in his own street. In the background, The Cranberries were playing ‘Dreams’ on the radio- their sound extenuating any chance of him hearing the call for help. May be he could hear the voice but was not willing to respond. May be he never heard the call. May be he was just being an apathetic…
Clouds roared with earsplitting thunders- Raindrops started hitting the glass-window blurring his vision. Maybe it was raindrops that blurred his vision or maybe his lack of sleep was eventually catching up on him. He closed his eyes for the first time in seven days…
