Para los que gusten de leer los desvaríos de un hijo de la noche

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

To sleep, perchance to dream...

...for in the sleep of death what dreams may come, once we have shed off this mortal coil.

-Shakespeare, Macbeth.

As I sleep I fall, an eternal fall with no discernible end. Then eternity comes to an end. An incessant torrent of ideas and thoughts swarm my mind. Turmoil ensues, as a thousdand different thoughts struggle for their place on my mind as I try to bring coherence to this seemingly endless flow of images and memories, as I try to realize what is real and what is a construct of my wayward mind. suddenly comes peace and silence, a moment of quiet meditation. But alas, it is short lived, for in the blink of an eye, I stumble upon a vortex of insanity once again. As I twist and toss and turn in this flux of incoherent inconscience I begin to question the sanity of my conscious self, my consciousness split into a thousand different personas, each a figment of my twisted ego, all arguing loudly. A myriad of images of places I have been to and places I have not flash before my morphean eyes as this ride flies at a hellbent pace. But then a sound comes. A sound uncannily out of place, even in this twisted reality. The sound becomes deafening, blasting through me, burning me. I burst, as consciousness brings closure to this unearthly plane.

I wake up.


Ryksz said...

Please, do keep posting ancient thoughts, better yet post your recent thoughts on ancient knowledge.

Imperatrix Nox said...

Beautifully written (typed?) as always, bunny. Though I can't help but wonder if you get any rest at all.

Is it like this every night or was this a particularly troubled sleep? Or was it all just the product of a moment of literary inspiration?