Thoughts before sleep

1

A girl who likes to slit her wrists? How original and unique she must be. I switched off the television and lay down to sleep on the sofa.2

I couldn't sleep; how could I dream? Seconds of silence slipped through the realms of my mind and I thought, I considered everything. They say that philosophical thoughts come to you early in the morning. They're wrong, nothing ever comes to you: everything you believe in is something you can imagine.3

My eyes wandered the ceiling, believing it to be the world of my youth I imagine as my future. How often I believe now. Am I wrong to have such faith? Such dreams? Are they even attractive prospects to me anymore? To have what I believed my parents to have was a dream I poured myself into with passionate determination. Everyone deserves to love and to be loved by that same person. It is such naivety which causes me to believe in life. Happiness is a realistic goal to me. At least, in these moments before sleep it is possible.4

I am ten years into the future, staring out across the artificially lit landscape which cries out to me, it draws me near whenever I try to pull away. My future is calling me. Relentlessly, it calls me. I am in love again, but this time he is not in love with someone else. I study for my future and I know the final destination as this train hurtles towards my dreams. I can't get off, there are no stops, no stations, no passengers. My dreams were not made for passengers. Then how can they be real? I scream at myself. A terrible realisation dawns. This life cannot be possible. It will not be beautiful. It cannot. I steer the train with a manic grin attached to my face. This is what I want as I drive myself towards my own destruction.5

It's moments like this that I consider losing my faith, but I cannot stop believing because I know that what I believe in is real. I've always known. My life merely echoes pain, I know that I will always know how to smile, how to love. This world has become so beautiful to me. Suffering is a firm foundation upon which we can build bliss. I can stop this train. I still have control of the brakes and I always will. I invite passengers aboard. They spring from ditches and fields, a girl jumps from the tracks. A driver appears from nowhere and takes control. A man smiles at the girl with black smudges on her face and she instantly falls in love. Always we will suffer but we shall always be consoled.6

As I think this, I smile at my beliefs. My life on my own private silver-screen. My story in someone else's words. Tomorrow is an endless string of unpredictable yesterdays and I could be anyone. Content with this thought, finally, I fall asleep.7