Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
I lay there looking at the ceiling wondering what my life will be like. I try to picture myself as an old woman with grey hair and wrinkles that mimic a smile. Imagining how my life will turn out and how I may change the world. Maybe I won't but nevertheless I lay there and look at the ceiling wondering what my life will be like. Do other people wonder about their lives and how they will turn out or do they just continue on the same undirected path with an unknown destination?
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
I lay there and wonder what my family and friends are doing. Are they happy? Do they miss me? What is their daily life like now? Being away from them is hard on my heart but unfortunately it's something I have learnt how to live with. Do they see beautiful things or experience life in a new way and wish I was there? There are so many times throughout my day that I do. I wish they were here. I look upon something new or experience a feeling unknown to my soul and wish I could turn to my father, my mother, my family, my dearest friends & say "Look at that! Isn't that cool?" or "Isn't that beautiful?". But instead I inhale and hope I can commit the experience or image to memory. that way perhaps then I can share it with them later when I return home one day. Eventually or in the future.
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
It's not like I have anything to worry about or stresses in life. I am not contemplating life's challenges, problems with colleges or financial difficulties. There is no baby crying in the next room or garbage to be taken out. Yet, I simply lay there and look at the ceiling with an empty mind and open heart. Maybe I have slept too much this year and every once in a while my mind wants to explore unknown dimensions. I have no idea. All i knows is that....
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
I lay there and toss and turn. My mind gets so frustrated that the only solution I find is to get up and write. So, I write about life. I write about love. I write until the tips of my fingers are sore. Then I sleep. If all writers in the world have their best moments in the wee hours of the night then its no wonder most of the world considers them odd. The majority of my partners have frowned upon my insomnia, (or moments of a writer inspirations depending on how you view it) as they always encourage me to go back to sleep but this one simply kisses my forehead and takes pictures of the falling snow. Someone finally accepts my odd moments and allows me to flow. I wish that helped me ease back into the world of dreams but his acceptance only urges my fingers to type faster.
And so it continues.
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
Maybe it's because I have finally booked a plane tickets back to Canada. Today I sewed another flag onto my bag (Austria) and the more flags I sew onto my bag the closer and closer I get to 'Friendly Manitoba'. There had to be something that pushed me back towards Canada, otherwise I would have wandered the world forever but that doesn't make going home any easier. I hide my face in my hands and shake my head. Canada. Oh, Canada. You are so far away yet so close. Is it going back to Canada that forces me to count sheep? Or it is having to accept this trip is over? Either way something was bound to force me back. Either my bag will fill up with flags, I'll run out of money or my passport will fill up. It's gotta be one of the above but before any of those occurred I booked a flight home. They say nothing is set in stone but,
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
Can't the sand man just visit me already? There are times when I wish I had relationship problems to dwell upon or unpaid bills to stress over. Something that I could debate and toss over and over and over in my head until I drifted off. Instead I lay there dreaming, imaging and examining life on a level deeper than I would usually have the brain space for. The one difference now is that I can watch the rise and fall of your chest, listen to you moan as you dream and smile at how much I love you.
I lay there looking at the ceiling wondering what my life will be like. I try to picture myself as an old woman with grey hair and wrinkles that mimic a smile. Imagining how my life will turn out and how I may change the world. Maybe I won't but nevertheless I lay there and look at the ceiling wondering what my life will be like. Do other people wonder about their lives and how they will turn out or do they just continue on the same undirected path with an unknown destination?
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
I lay there and wonder what my family and friends are doing. Are they happy? Do they miss me? What is their daily life like now? Being away from them is hard on my heart but unfortunately it's something I have learnt how to live with. Do they see beautiful things or experience life in a new way and wish I was there? There are so many times throughout my day that I do. I wish they were here. I look upon something new or experience a feeling unknown to my soul and wish I could turn to my father, my mother, my family, my dearest friends & say "Look at that! Isn't that cool?" or "Isn't that beautiful?". But instead I inhale and hope I can commit the experience or image to memory. that way perhaps then I can share it with them later when I return home one day. Eventually or in the future.
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
It's not like I have anything to worry about or stresses in life. I am not contemplating life's challenges, problems with colleges or financial difficulties. There is no baby crying in the next room or garbage to be taken out. Yet, I simply lay there and look at the ceiling with an empty mind and open heart. Maybe I have slept too much this year and every once in a while my mind wants to explore unknown dimensions. I have no idea. All i knows is that....
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
I lay there and toss and turn. My mind gets so frustrated that the only solution I find is to get up and write. So, I write about life. I write about love. I write until the tips of my fingers are sore. Then I sleep. If all writers in the world have their best moments in the wee hours of the night then its no wonder most of the world considers them odd. The majority of my partners have frowned upon my insomnia, (or moments of a writer inspirations depending on how you view it) as they always encourage me to go back to sleep but this one simply kisses my forehead and takes pictures of the falling snow. Someone finally accepts my odd moments and allows me to flow. I wish that helped me ease back into the world of dreams but his acceptance only urges my fingers to type faster.
And so it continues.
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
Maybe it's because I have finally booked a plane tickets back to Canada. Today I sewed another flag onto my bag (Austria) and the more flags I sew onto my bag the closer and closer I get to 'Friendly Manitoba'. There had to be something that pushed me back towards Canada, otherwise I would have wandered the world forever but that doesn't make going home any easier. I hide my face in my hands and shake my head. Canada. Oh, Canada. You are so far away yet so close. Is it going back to Canada that forces me to count sheep? Or it is having to accept this trip is over? Either way something was bound to force me back. Either my bag will fill up with flags, I'll run out of money or my passport will fill up. It's gotta be one of the above but before any of those occurred I booked a flight home. They say nothing is set in stone but,
Sometimes at night I can't sleep.
Can't the sand man just visit me already? There are times when I wish I had relationship problems to dwell upon or unpaid bills to stress over. Something that I could debate and toss over and over and over in my head until I drifted off. Instead I lay there dreaming, imaging and examining life on a level deeper than I would usually have the brain space for. The one difference now is that I can watch the rise and fall of your chest, listen to you moan as you dream and smile at how much I love you.
