June 4, 2008

• Perfect Sleep

  The silence had been bothering me. The disappearance even more. And the
  future worried me. The past haunted me. It was like that some days. It
  was like that yesterday.
  
  
  
  But then, this morning I slept a perfect sleep. I was content.
  Comfortable. Satisfied. I didn’t want to wake up. I was at peace. 
  
  
  
  Flashback…
  
  
  
  When I was young I remember every day began the same.  My Mom would
  yell for me to wake up. Only, most days, I was already awake. Just
  lying in bed staring at the ceiling waiting for the call.
  
  
  
  But it’d still be hard for me to get up. I’d force myself to roll out
  of bed creep downstairs like a zombie grab some food a pop tart or
  cereal and something to drink. Still I was half asleep. I’d then lie
  down on the couch. It would be cold. So I’d curl myself into a little
  ball, waiting for the rest of the busy house to awaken and finish their
  business so that I could go about mine. It was always busy. And I never
  wanted to get in anyone’s way. So I lay their waiting. Visible so that
  nobody thinks I’m still in bed or fears I might miss my bus and yet
  effectively invisible too. Unobtrusive.
  
  
  
  Those naps. Fifteen, thirty minutes, no longer. They were…  perfect.
  
  
  
  I don’t know how else to describe it. The night was not perfect. I
  would be restless all night, never able to really sleep completely.
  Thoughts of the coming day would scare me. Memories of the days gone by
  would plague me. All night falling in and out of sleep, in and out of
  unremembered dreams. 
  
  
  
  And the day that followed would not be perfect either. I knew that
  every morning.  School was not going to be good. Elementary school.
  Middle School. High School. College. School was never good.  There would be some people though, just a few, who made it… tolerable.
  

  
  
  I didn’t do my homework. I never did. I had no plans. Or hopes. There’d
  be things to do. But they’d be stupid things. I didn’t want to do them.
  But I would. I’d do my homework in a rush during homeroom or on the
  bus. I didn’t copy. My answers were going to always be right anyway.
  
  
  
  During class, I’d spend most days with my head lying in my arms,
  daydreaming. Weird thoughts. I’d imagine people’s futures. I’d create
  stories out of my classmates lives in my own mind. And I’d imagine
  disasters striking, nuclear war, earthquakes, alien attacks, vortexes
  that suck us into another dimension. I’d wonder about things to, the
  why’s and the hows were always interesting to me. And of course the
  what ifs. Like what if I’m only dreaming or what if someone is only
  dreaming me?
  
  
  
  It wasn’t that the subjects being taught weren’t interesting. I was
  intensely curious. I loved learning. Still do. It was just that I cared
  for my own thoughts more. Class
  was slow. And the teachers never thought about things the way that I
  did. So I’d have to teach myself anyway. So why was I in class? I
  couldn’t think of one damned good reason.
  
  
  
  And I knew how it would go, roughly once a day I could expect a teacher
  to call on me just to make sure I was awake. And I’d know the answer,
  nine times out of ten, and stutter it out nervously for being put on
  the spot and feel miserable.  Is this the teacher’s way of trying to
  boost my self-esteem? Bad plan. They should read Ender’s Game.
  
  
  
  The one time I didn’t know I’d just say I don’t know and lie my head
  right back down. The teacher would say something after that… but I’d
  have already stopped listening. I’ll get my A on the damn test, I’d
  think, so leave me alone already.
  
  
  
  Roughly once a month or so a teacher and on rare occasion another
  (possibly bribed or coerced) student would get it in their head to try
  and reach out to me. To engage me camaraderie or something. Trying to be
  my friend, I guess, or understand me better. I’d watched them though.
  I’d seen them engage the same strategy with others. I’d seen it engaged
  with various degrees of success or failure. But I’d seen how short
  lived it was. Friendships based on pity don’t ever last. So I didn’t
  want any of that.
  
  
  
  It was always the same. Predictable. Every day. Every week. Ever month. Every year. It was the same.
  
  
  
  But those mornings were… something else. Something about that place.
  Curled up on the couch. Cold. So cold.  I’d hear the sound of the
  shower running upstairs. The bustle of people moving about the house
  getting ready for work and school. And my mind would clear. All fears
  and doubts would slide away. I’d focus on the warmth of the couch
  capturing my body heat and radiating it back out to me. Just stay warm.
  I’d think. Stay warm. I’d focus on nothing. It’d be sort of a trance.
  Meditation.  Peace. Warmth. Security.  It felt right.
  
  
  
  And then some days, he’d come share those moments with me. We’d had
  this black cat.  Stubborn as stones. Prideful as sin. Mean as could be.
  And he’d saunter on up to me look up at me, his eerie yellowing-green
  eyes demanding my attention. I’d pick him up and he’d curl into a ball
  on my stomach napping along with me, sharing his body warmth with
  mine.  Letting me rub and pet him. I was the only one he’d do that with
  most of the time. I like to think that his thoughts were like mine.
  Focused on nothing but the moment. The here and the now. Just stay warm. Everything else will still be there in the future. For now, right now, be still, be at peace, just stay warm.
  
  
  
  It was perfect.
  
  
  
  The rest of the day I could deal with because of those ten, fifteen
  minutes in the morning. Just that time of peace was enough to make
  everything else, not so bad at all really. I wonder who I’d be today if
  I hadn’t had those moments of peace? That time to gather myself. To
  stay in control. To accept myself.  What if I hadn’t had it? Would I
  have sought an outlet elsewhere? In crime or drugs or something else?
  Would I have lost myself, forgotten what mattered to me and given up on
  life? I’ve seen so many people who have. What makes me different from
  them I wonder. Could it be on such little things that one’s destiny
  rides? Maybe a single moment of peace could save a lifetime?
  
  
  
  But the moment always ended too. And the day would have to go on. I’d
  be so reluctant to get up. And the cat would look at me with such a
  scornful and disgusted look as I stirred. He was all like “How dare you
  get up? Don’t you know you’re my bed?” But I’d have to give my
  sincerest apologies to my feline friend knowing full well he’d not
  accept them and probably would get his vengeance in the form of a
  scratch or a bite at some time when I least expected it. That was his
  way, his life, just as it was mine to arrogantly coast through school.
  
  
  
  Years passed. Graduation. More School. Graduation. More School. Work.
  The cat made his way to his afterlife where I’m sure he’s demanding his
  rightful place on the God of cat’s lap and probably getting his way.  
  And I stopped napping. I forgot about taking moments to clear my mind.
  And I forgot that there could be a kind of sleep that surpassed
  ordinary resting. Pressures of the present haunt me and every
  increasingly stressful day fades into the next. The same. The same. The
  same…
  
  
  
  But then my air conditioner was fixed yesterday. Supposedly. Only I
  can’t control the temperature. So it’s either freezing or burning up.
  Yesterday I had it running. And I went to bed after 2 AM having not
  eaten since noon the previous day and not feeling the least bit
  hungry.  I curled up in a ball, under several blankets, on my mattress
  on the floor that substitutes for a bed. And it was cold. So cold.  And
  I listened to the rain falling outside and the thunder and lightning
  blasted. I curled myself into a ball under the covers and the
  comforter. I focused on nothing. My mind cleared. My worry left me. And
  I slept. I dozed. Dreamless. Mindless. All the anger I didn’t realize I
  had been feeling left me. It’ll be back before long I know, but for now
  it just drained away. I didn’t want to wake up. I was at peace. Resting. It was… perfect.
  
  
  
  Oops. Ended up late for work.
  
  
  
  It was worth it.
  

  • 10:34 am
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