Ishan Benegal

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This road

This road’s going somewhere. I don’t know where, but it intrigues me so I’m going to follow it. The literal road I’m on is third avenue and that has definite destination that most of us know. Right now I’m headed back home. And that is a road I sure as hell want to follow. It leads to the most important thing in my life, at this very moment in time. That’s my bed. Sleep. The very thought of it makes me feel all soft inside. I taunt myself with images and thoughts about getting into bed under the nice warm covers and surrendering to sleep. God knows that this is a battle I fight every day. And he must know why too because the answer eludes me. I want sleep. I crave it. And yet when the time comes, the final moment when I am ready and I have decided that it is finally time; the time for sleep has finally arrived, she runs away from me. I picture her laughing at me. Giggling gently, thinking about me as some poor sod. It is a nightly dance, that Sleep and I, we partake in and she is constantly leading. I try to fight back, to grab control of the reigns and lead, because I am supposed to lead, and yet my efforts are futile. She is in total control and I struggle to think back to a time when I was in total control. The very thought seems idiotic. But I haven’t yet gotten to that stage yet. I’m still walking back so it hasn’t occurred to me, just as yet. I pretend as if I don’t know that I’m about to take part in this dance.

Everyday is a new, fresh day.

I tell myself.

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