On Insomnia

It's precisely 2:19 a.m. as I'm writing the first line of this unfortunate blog entry. Indeed, it has been circa three months now that my insomnia was awakened once again. Once. Again. In general, this state is not to be appreciated (and in my case it certainly isn't); however, there are realities that can only been observed in this misfortune of sleeplessness. Maybe, the word "only" sounds a little bit too exclusive, but this time of staring at the ceiling has lead me into reflections that neither a state of being awake, nor unconscious dreaming would bring about. Looking through the darkness, seeing nothing but one image. Future. Dream. Nightmare? Hope. Despair. My heart beat would suddenly grow in velocity and thrilled by the danger evoked by the plethora of unanswered questions, my lips would utter a word of prayer. Prayer of a sleepless, helpless boy waiting for his Father to do something, which he does not even believe could happen. This would never happen in a stage of being awake. This could never happen in the wildest dream. These are the hours of dependency on the One whom this insomniac fails to trust during the day. Now all reality is just a projection along with both the past and the "future." Everything becomes one dream, maybe nightmare that is more real than "the real dream," yet more abstract than what would follow in a few hours when he "awakes." Only uncertainty is certain at this sacred moment. Tomorrow will bring today. Let me say it again. Today will bring tomorrow. Or... how would I put it.. Bring today tomorrow. That's it.