Awake again in the middle of the night. The air around me is cold and damp, but underneath the covers I’m burning up. I pull back the blankets to cool off a bit. My mouth is dry as a bone and my belly is “blowed up”. I realize I’m not painting a pretty picture here, but more often than not, either does life. I take in a few cleansing breaths to empty the fog. But instead of dreading the darkness, I turn and embrace it.
To see nothing other than what’s in front of you can often be a blessing. No past to haunt you, no future to fear. Only the light of the screen and the words that appear from my fingers. I often reread what I write and wonder, “where did that come from?” But more times than not I just accept it and go on.
I’m still feeling hot, with no clue where my thoughts are taking me. My gut is rumbling, so I wait patiently for the calm. To experience life in a bubble is often not a bad thing. Especially for us wired so incorrectly (at least that’s what I’m told). The bubble can be our savior. But for now as I drift in and out of this dream-like state, I can’t help but wonder. Now do the normal people sleep?