They say time passes when you are having fun.
To me, time passes even faster when the sweet peace of sleep eludes you and you have to chase it down like a desperate hunter in acres and acres of unfamiliar terrain, hunting down prey to feed.
Every time I look at the clock, time has elapsed. (Duh) it's almost magic and I'm helpless trying to will the grains of time slipping through my fingers like fine milled flour.
It's an art to fall asleep. One I have not fully grasped. This precious peace, has been robbed too often by the anxiety that besets my heart. I have worried for days that I haven't yet lived, mulled over troubles that might or might not happen and allowed the restorative machinery of sleep to halt.
I envy those who don't know sleepless nights and hope against hope for the day I might join their ranks. That must truly be a blessedness that one should never take for granted. Because only in sleep can your soul take a respite from the toils of life, recharge its batteries and run to distant lands reclaimed by imagination.
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