Ramblings of an Insomniac.

pulmonaire:

Arctic Wonderland by Sarah Anne Johnson

(via dudeidontremember)

saturninefilms:

Sometimes, it feels like the universe has a thumb, like it’s pressed against my temple and clotting the primary arteries that exist there.  My thoughts become anti-matter, the vessel to hold them but a black-hole leading toward an empty infinity;

…but then you wake up.

Sometimes, my arms are stretched-out wide like a lonely canvas.  Everything in the room has some strange, magnetic energy about it.  Paint splatters every which way but never actually touches me.  I fear I’ll be empty forever, watching hues evolve from greens to reds and then to a barren brown.  Seasons become a reminder that I’m white, and only when it snows am I at all like the scenery surrounding me;

…but then you walk in with a palette of watercolors, and with it, I get to evolve, too.

Sometimes, when it’s dark and I can’t sleep, I watch you roll around and imagine what you’re dreaming about.  You’ve taken over entire planets, adventured into dimensions that I’ve never even conceived of, turned into animals that don’t exist (yet).  It helps me calm down when the faint glow of an old sports broadcast can’t put me to sleep;

…you steal all the blankets, but your legs keep me warm.

Sometimes, I get the feeling that it’s all for not — that my skills aren’t actually skills at all, but a pretentious cry from an entitled man-boy.  I question the merit of my creation.  I wonder silently if it’s ever going to take me anywhere, foolishly, as if it hadn’t already brought me here.  When I realize the truth of it, when I ignore the fear of failure, I’m blessed with a not-so-humble contentedness that I’ve envied for so long;

…if you question it all, suffice to say, you’re wrong.

Sometimes lately, I feel at peace with my past.  As if I’ve transcended it completely and stepped upon a new horizon.  My hands start to shake, my palms sweat, and my lips chap.  I can never quite say what I mean to say, but how does one define something completely indefinable?  How does somebody actually convey a sentiment like that?  I’m trying to, body-earthquakes be good goddamned.  I’ll shake all fucking night if the ground swells enough to keep you landlocked and in my scope;

…and that’s the truth of it all.  That’s my truth.