In Itself

I’m terrified of what might happen when I sleep. Death in sleep isn’t what terrifies me, but the question of where I go when I sleep. Most nights, I lie in wait as my own body lulls me to nothing, and then I find myself waking up. It’s horrific that each night, I don’t know what awaits me; a mystery, a pain, an adventure, or a chaos. But every night, I still go back and fall prey to the gentle lull of my body.
The silence that ensues just before I am lulled; it is a dangerous thing, and the wonder at the last seconds before I am not, which I am unable to give account of, even the more ominous.

But I sleep anyway. A few times, it does not bother me more than the activities of the day which cause my body to lull me to sleep. I allow myself to be taken from all angles. To be conned out of the sleepless process of finding reason to sleep.
Waking up, especially at night, is a relief to me. Everybody loves the night. A time when they can hear their own heartbeat. When they can hear themselves steer their minds into critical thought, and their bodies in and out of oblivion at will; a time when beautiful Eternity exudes the heart of them. But they suck the night dry with their snores and spit the phlegm all over their pillows as Eternity dawdles idly away finding none indulgent in her muse.

But me, I wake up at night to spend time with her. And I wake up again at day to watch the bounce of her fine loose buttocks beneath curvy hips, into the day’s noise she struts. And then I find glimpses of her in everything.
You see, in sleep, and in waking likewise, I do not know what might happen. I do not know what’s ahead. This is what frightens me. If I knew I would die, I would rejoice that there is indeed a purpose, and the death itself is no issue to face squarely. If I knew what to do with what I find, whether asleep or awake, I would die rejoicing in purpose. Not Knowing is my terror.

He is always with me to break the bones in my back, even after the day’s uncertainties have already twisted a few bones in my body, and I wake up with more bruises consequently. And he mocks; uses my own mind to do it. And you wonder why it terrifies me to sleep.

When I’m with her, I still don’t see what will happen, and if I do see it, it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I see her when the world sleeps, and then when I wake up, I can face the uncertainties like I knew what they were. When I wake up, I know I won’t fall through the ground. I know my nostrils can contain the burst of air. I know they were awake when I was asleep. I know my eyes will not die when it sees light. I know my feet will find something to land on when they reach for the ground, and I know they can raise the rest of my body. I know they will step, one feet after another, on the ground and not fall through. I just know. That there’s a heart in my chest and it won’t stop; and that there’s a “my” in the first place who is in control of his mind. I just know; I can’t argue with the facts of my existence.


~ Telsum Bini