Photosource: Unknown
It's 4am and I'm right in the middle of an insomnia I don't quite understand.
It's been a while since I've stared at a blank Microsoft Word Page…
Since I've felt like I have something to say.
And yet… I don't really have nothing important to say…
Nothing special to share… although there’s so much I could tell.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like time isn't whispering in my ear.
I don't feel the urge to do any of those things I should do…
It's just me and a blank page and a dictionary full of words in my head that I can't put into sentences… I'm not depressed, though I have things to be sad about.
I'm not smiling, though deep down I'm happy.
I discovered a brilliant song in one of my neighbouring blogs and I'm letting myself feel it… savour it… flow with it…
I think too much.
It feels good not to think about anything at all, to not worry about this or that…
to just be.
I contemplate fate… as a distant observer.
Instead of weighing things, I just recall them for what they are and how they happened.
The things that got me here… The things that make me what I am
And what I'm not.
The things that people do… the things that people didn't do… but wanted to.
Curious…
That nothing particular keeps me awake, but I'm not enough at peace to go to sleep.
Sometimes I think there’s a void… an empty space that can never be filled.
I can't tell you its shape or what’s missing… or what will fill it…
I don't know.
Maybe it's the weariness kicking in… Most of the times I believe that it's nothing more a fiction of my imagination, a side affect of the past that forces me to believe that something is probably wrong.
They say that the human being is unsatisfied by nature… maybe this is what it is.
Even though I want for nothing… there's nothing I need
(that is except a handsome raise in my paycheck!)
Someone once said to me that only depressed people write deep and soulful things – which explains why most poets were suicidal.
Maybe that’s the reason… the reason I can't put anything together or make any sense.
I'm too content and fulfilled to say anything meaningful.
I love that I have nothing to say… that my lips are mere servants to the lyrics I'm listening to.
I miss my little brother…
I wonder if anyone I know is up at this hour… I could think of one or two…
But I don't feel like it… talking… there’s no one I would have by my side… though there are those I sorely miss… maybe i´ll chat to just one person…
I need to get out of that place… it's making me crazy.
I want to stay here… I think I’ll go upstairs
There's magic in my bed that will offer me sleep and sugar sweet dreams…
Perhaps I’ll stay a little longer…
To ponder… about…
About why some dogs are born without tales…
Why some fairytales come true…
And some don't…
And why no one writes about the ever after…
Does it matter?
At 4:28 in the morning?
No I don't feel like opening e-mails, reading blogs, snooping in facebook or hi5… I just want to stay here and keep myself company.
Just be here and awake while the rest of the world sleeps…
Shh… I'm gossiping with angels!
The song has come to an end… let me quickly rewind it… I like this song, I think I’ll download it and add it to my I-Pod.
It’ll bring me back to this moment when I listen to it on the train… sometime between Vila Nova da Rainha and Oriente…
I’ll look outside to fields of sunflowers, to the river, past the small train station where I can imagine people dressed in olden day’s clothing, their Sunday best to catch the train to… to somewhere far! To visit someone special… to be with that person.
I’ll hear this song and remember how I feel right now…
I’ll stop thinking about something unimportant, take a deep breath and Smile.
Because I'm aloud to stop as long as I want to... even when the world is spinning at a breathless Speed.
I’ll probably give him a kiss… because I can.
And I’ll feel… something special.
Enough of this… there’s a warm body waiting to pull me close, a sigh of satisfaction to be heard and a kiss to be planted somewhere in my curly mass of hair.
The Gods must be crazy… and I like it that way.
5am.
It's 4am and I'm right in the middle of an insomnia I don't quite understand.
It's been a while since I've stared at a blank Microsoft Word Page…
Since I've felt like I have something to say.
And yet… I don't really have nothing important to say…
Nothing special to share… although there’s so much I could tell.
For the first time in a long time, I feel like time isn't whispering in my ear.
I don't feel the urge to do any of those things I should do…
It's just me and a blank page and a dictionary full of words in my head that I can't put into sentences… I'm not depressed, though I have things to be sad about.
I'm not smiling, though deep down I'm happy.
I discovered a brilliant song in one of my neighbouring blogs and I'm letting myself feel it… savour it… flow with it…
I think too much.
It feels good not to think about anything at all, to not worry about this or that…
to just be.
I contemplate fate… as a distant observer.
Instead of weighing things, I just recall them for what they are and how they happened.
The things that got me here… The things that make me what I am
And what I'm not.
The things that people do… the things that people didn't do… but wanted to.
Curious…
That nothing particular keeps me awake, but I'm not enough at peace to go to sleep.
Sometimes I think there’s a void… an empty space that can never be filled.
I can't tell you its shape or what’s missing… or what will fill it…
I don't know.
Maybe it's the weariness kicking in… Most of the times I believe that it's nothing more a fiction of my imagination, a side affect of the past that forces me to believe that something is probably wrong.
They say that the human being is unsatisfied by nature… maybe this is what it is.
Even though I want for nothing… there's nothing I need
(that is except a handsome raise in my paycheck!)
Someone once said to me that only depressed people write deep and soulful things – which explains why most poets were suicidal.
Maybe that’s the reason… the reason I can't put anything together or make any sense.
I'm too content and fulfilled to say anything meaningful.
I love that I have nothing to say… that my lips are mere servants to the lyrics I'm listening to.
I miss my little brother…
I wonder if anyone I know is up at this hour… I could think of one or two…
But I don't feel like it… talking… there’s no one I would have by my side… though there are those I sorely miss… maybe i´ll chat to just one person…
I need to get out of that place… it's making me crazy.
I want to stay here… I think I’ll go upstairs
There's magic in my bed that will offer me sleep and sugar sweet dreams…
Perhaps I’ll stay a little longer…
To ponder… about…
About why some dogs are born without tales…
Why some fairytales come true…
And some don't…
And why no one writes about the ever after…
Does it matter?
At 4:28 in the morning?
No I don't feel like opening e-mails, reading blogs, snooping in facebook or hi5… I just want to stay here and keep myself company.
Just be here and awake while the rest of the world sleeps…
Shh… I'm gossiping with angels!
The song has come to an end… let me quickly rewind it… I like this song, I think I’ll download it and add it to my I-Pod.
It’ll bring me back to this moment when I listen to it on the train… sometime between Vila Nova da Rainha and Oriente…
I’ll look outside to fields of sunflowers, to the river, past the small train station where I can imagine people dressed in olden day’s clothing, their Sunday best to catch the train to… to somewhere far! To visit someone special… to be with that person.
I’ll hear this song and remember how I feel right now…
I’ll stop thinking about something unimportant, take a deep breath and Smile.
Because I'm aloud to stop as long as I want to... even when the world is spinning at a breathless Speed.
I’ll probably give him a kiss… because I can.
And I’ll feel… something special.
Enough of this… there’s a warm body waiting to pull me close, a sigh of satisfaction to be heard and a kiss to be planted somewhere in my curly mass of hair.
The Gods must be crazy… and I like it that way.
5am.
