When I Wake (I'm Still in a Dream)

It was one of those grey days

when you feel safe underneath the blanket of clouds.

Everything is muted:

The weather is mild and even

the sun is muffled, shining

strongly from an unimaginable amount of footsteps away,

trying to peak out of a puncture in the wool.

One of those days

when all you can do is listen to Simon & Garfunkel

and try to smile or cry and not be able to do either,

genuinely at least.

I've also had one of those eerie feelings like I've been remembering bits and parts of a dream I may or may not have had last night.

Or like I'm beginning to realize I can't wake up.

Goodnight, frustration.

As I lay here next to my mother who is making cute noises as she breathes, I realize that I only ever write at night.  For some reason, although I am better at paying attention to subjects like math, and better at paying attention to reading a book while I'm awake in the morning, my head is much more calm- though not exactly clear at night. Most of the time, I feel like I want to washout my brain with mint shampoo and rinse it so my thoughts seem lucid or even sane. But no matter how much I don't want it to be- it's usually pretty murky. 

Although I have felt like I've been less productive, I'm starting to think that this whole "spending time on me" thing may turn out to have positive effects, but I guess we'll see. For now, resting is what I should do "for me", so I will.

Goodnight moon.