The Empty Stare

Just What is there, in Sleep?

Maybe things are not as bad, at least today, as they have been lately. Today, I can actually prefer the waking hours to the dreaming ones.

Just what is there, in sleep? Most times, when waking, I just want to complete that last thought or task that occurred just before reality pulled me to the surface.

But today, maybe I am glad to be awake.

Coming from me, this is an odd statement. It is not as if I enjoy sloth, which sleeping seems to be. It is not the lying about aimlessly that draws me to it; it is the other world of dreams.

That once-removed dimension that exists within me, yet takes my mind so much outside-of-itself. The clear realizations and profound connections that 'other me' can make there, and sometimes, bring back across at waking.

Perhaps I will find a way, in consciousness, to create such a feeling. Perhaps, in reality, I can find the connections in real paper and ink. This, perhaps, is the tale that remains to be told, the discovery of the method by which such words will come.