fear and loathing in…

I apologize for the rambling stream of consciousness below, but it was drafted out when I was tossing and turning in bed at about 2 am.

Whenever people ask me about how easily I fall asleep, my standard response is the enviable ‘oh, I fall asleep within 5 minutes of hitting the sack’ and they’d be like, ‘oh, that’s nice’ etc. But the reason why I sleep so quickly is that whenever I drag my corpse into my coffin, I’m at the brink of exhaustion, the kind where you should have gone to bed at least 3 hours earlier when your eyes were already closing on their own accord because they’re burning within your sockets and you’re this close to slumping forward and hitting your head and your table.

But if I were to sleep earlier, I’d get the tossing and turning issue and that’s not fun either, when your thoughts start to run wild and you can’t focus on anything beyond trying to shove all the unhappy things into the Box and then you start second-guessing everything that you ever knew and paranoia starts to take over.

Sidenote: A solution, or the coward’s way out really, is to think about something completely different – which is why I make up characters in my head, which is why I write stories in my mind instead of on paper, so that there is something for my mind to focus on, which will enable me to drift away midway some dashing surreal unrealistic adventure of Person A and their crazy companions. (Might also be why I am never able to imagine myself as the main character in anything. My stories can only revolve around fictitious people.)


Which leads me to thinking about The Weighing of the Heart. It’s a ceremony which occurs when you die and you’re led into the afterlife by Anubis. Osiris, ruler of the underworld and the afterlife, watches as you declare that you are innocent of wrongdoing, and then your heart is weighed against a feather, owned by the Goddess of Truth, Ma’at. If your heart is indeed lighter than the feather, you will be sent to Osiris, to continue your journey through the afterlife. Otherwise, you will get to be devoured by Ammut.

Which, let me say, is a strange thing to be thinking about when you’re trying to fall asleep and not remember everything that occurred when you were a teenager in some sort of super fast compressed flashback sequence of events, and trying to second-guess everything you thought was real – like did the people around you genuinely liked you for the person that you were or were you just deluding yourself, or were you really deserving of whatever you got or were you lying to yourself as you floated across the sea of mediocrity. Were you afraid of getting hurt, of rejection, more back then or right now? Did you even grow as a person or are you pretending that you did? Is it just the same individual, just wrapped slightly differently, in an updated packaging, but still the same terrible product inside? It’s awful in the sort of way that you start thinking you can’t trust anyone to be honest with you and that you can’t be honest with anyone else either because who knows what they really think and who knows if they’re actually making fun of you behind your back.

See, this is why I need the Box to keep all these nuisance thoughts from cluttering up my mind and destroying any semblance of relationships and connections I have with people, because I know how nuts this whole thought process is, and how it’s not healthy to be paranoid and suspicious of people who definitely don’t deserve you side-eyeing them as though they did you wrong.

Does absence make the heart grow fonder or am I already an afterthought, barely a foot-note in your increasing book of tales?

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