Mysteries of Nightfall.

It's going to be another late night. Another long day bleeding into the darkness. Dreary eyes and heavy thoughts all rushing. I'll grip my mattress and try to relax. But the feeling never stops. I'm in a constant free fall of dreams and emotion.
This sweet sixteen is tired. She's not distraught. She's deprived.

It's hard to find your pillow in a sea of black. The darkness that sucks everything into this one tight spot where your exhausted mind can't seem to want to make you put your arms out and search. Where your body is just so afraid of the unknown out in the corner but you know eventually you'll have to gather the strength to reach out and start to grab.
And the funny thing is - I'm actually talking about sleeping here. There is no background meaning behind all of this. I mean, I suppose you could actually take it like that. But I'm not meaning to weave things around in these words tonight.

I've come down with a seirous syndrome of nothing but tossing and turning all night. My thoughts and dreams have melted together into this sticky mess that's so wonderful, yet so troublesome. My eyes are wide open most nights. Closing them takes a great deal of effort. But eventually my body submits, and my mind lolls, and I'm shut off for the night. My breathing turns into a natural metronome of soft, slow beats. It shakes and sways. My hands quiver for something to hold. Something to grab to and belong to as I sleep through the night. Because being in bed alone never really made me happy. Not even the little dog at the edge of the sheets could comfort me. My arms wrapped around my pillows are what force me to sleep.

And again, I'm alone.
Well. That's a lie. My sister has decided to plant herself on my bedroom floor and sleep. A long and hard slumber. Which dissapoints me. Because I want to talk so badly because I've got a serious mouth to run, and only the wall next to me.

That's what I need. Something that'll shake my bones and make me stretch.

And then my thoughts start again. And I'm forced to stay awake again.
I'd much rather see these things in my dreams. Memories and beliefs are so much more
solid in dreams. To me they are at least.

I need to go to bed. I'm exhausted to say the least.
Every part of my body.
But tomorrow I'll be up and ready.

And then I hear the best thing ever.
A dial tone from a phone. On my floor.
Gabby's up after all :]