Wednesday 26 November 2014
Tuesday 4 November 2014
Insomnia & Inspiration
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Insomnia & Inspiration
I remember the first time insomnia gripped at my bones shaking me with adrenaline and ideas that flooded over me like ice. I was laying in my bed staring up at my ceiling. I saw millions of stars blinking back at me showing me not only a world of possibilities, but an entire universe filled with stories that were waiting for millennia to be heard.
My mother had just a few months prior painted my room, my entire room like the universe. Stars in countless constellations hovered just a few feet above my head often soothing me to sleep. But upon this evening I found the paint had come to live, my walls were breathing and the stars glowed just a little brighter as I listened to the story the world was waiting for me to hear.
I treasured every dream my memory managed to capture, savoring them as they fed a hunger I had yet to understand. My bones craved words to be etched upon them with my soul as the pen, a story of dreams and stars that would fall from the ceiling disappearing within my skin burning me from the inside out with a feverish urge to tell the stories that stars would whisper as I slept.
Sleepless nights arrived bringing with them dreams that would taunt me in the darkness, weaving between the stars on my ceiling words would write themselves upon my mind with a light so bright I was sure I would never be able to sleep through it.
I would lay down imagining blank pages inside my head and by morning they would be so full of rich words, imagery of castles and lands that stretched so far beyond the horized my whole body itched to explore them.
Stories would tumble from my lips the way you would imagine stars to fall from the sky, with a force so uncontrollable you can not help but give in to it.
Now as I am older I channel the stories onto paper, filling up journal after journal with words written over and over trying to express emotions and lives so rich and colorful they pull me beyond the typeface of the letters and straight into the world I have penned down so much about.
The nights have become an excuse to travel and explore places that some are not willing to travel, I witness the things that go bump in the night and run through forests catching leaves in my hair.
The moon became the light to guide me as I wrote my way through adventures and mishaps, gains and losses. I ached for the night knowing that the stars had been waiting for us to meet again.
Though that room that I first discovered worlds beyond inside is now what appears to be just a room, four walls and a door, I still feel the hum of the words they spoke to me when I was younger. I can still see the glittering stars above my head showing me the way towards magic.
Sometimes in the pitch black of night, even with my eyes closed I can see the stars rearranging themselves in a chaotic order or inspiration and creation.
Though I do love to sleep, one cannot argue that there is magic in staying awake.
November has arrived, which means so has self inflicted insomnia as I deprive myself from my sleep to meet with my muses once more for National Novel Writing Month.
I hope everyone has had a good day and continues to have a good week!
See you in the future!
LexiLoopsy
Insomnia & Inspiration
I remember the first time insomnia gripped at my bones shaking me with adrenaline and ideas that flooded over me like ice. I was laying in my bed staring up at my ceiling. I saw millions of stars blinking back at me showing me not only a world of possibilities, but an entire universe filled with stories that were waiting for millennia to be heard.
My mother had just a few months prior painted my room, my entire room like the universe. Stars in countless constellations hovered just a few feet above my head often soothing me to sleep. But upon this evening I found the paint had come to live, my walls were breathing and the stars glowed just a little brighter as I listened to the story the world was waiting for me to hear.
I treasured every dream my memory managed to capture, savoring them as they fed a hunger I had yet to understand. My bones craved words to be etched upon them with my soul as the pen, a story of dreams and stars that would fall from the ceiling disappearing within my skin burning me from the inside out with a feverish urge to tell the stories that stars would whisper as I slept.
Sleepless nights arrived bringing with them dreams that would taunt me in the darkness, weaving between the stars on my ceiling words would write themselves upon my mind with a light so bright I was sure I would never be able to sleep through it.
I would lay down imagining blank pages inside my head and by morning they would be so full of rich words, imagery of castles and lands that stretched so far beyond the horized my whole body itched to explore them.
Stories would tumble from my lips the way you would imagine stars to fall from the sky, with a force so uncontrollable you can not help but give in to it.
Now as I am older I channel the stories onto paper, filling up journal after journal with words written over and over trying to express emotions and lives so rich and colorful they pull me beyond the typeface of the letters and straight into the world I have penned down so much about.
The nights have become an excuse to travel and explore places that some are not willing to travel, I witness the things that go bump in the night and run through forests catching leaves in my hair.
The moon became the light to guide me as I wrote my way through adventures and mishaps, gains and losses. I ached for the night knowing that the stars had been waiting for us to meet again.
Though that room that I first discovered worlds beyond inside is now what appears to be just a room, four walls and a door, I still feel the hum of the words they spoke to me when I was younger. I can still see the glittering stars above my head showing me the way towards magic.
Sometimes in the pitch black of night, even with my eyes closed I can see the stars rearranging themselves in a chaotic order or inspiration and creation.
Though I do love to sleep, one cannot argue that there is magic in staying awake.
November has arrived, which means so has self inflicted insomnia as I deprive myself from my sleep to meet with my muses once more for National Novel Writing Month.
I hope everyone has had a good day and continues to have a good week!
See you in the future!
LexiLoopsy
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