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Sleep is Spun with Gold
Going from living to sleep to sleeping to live
Once upon a time, there was a severely depressed young woman. This young woman used to sleep to ignore the world. To escape into a world of her creation. A world without bounds or restrictions. One where she was understood.
Her pillow summoned her habitually and dreams much like sirens wisped her away.
Besides the fact living in your dreams isn’t sustainable she knew she’d never move forward sleeping the days away. Living only to sleep is nothing but killing time.
To kill time is not murder, it’s suicide.
— William James
These days it's different I am happy to say this young woman is more than ok. Sure she still loves sleep but in a more sensible way. Her depression though still around can’t swallow her with blankets as easy.
Her sleep is lush and one of the most hedonistic parts of her days. She is alive and no longer kills a second.
Sleep is her favourite remedy for sickness and good health. No more is sleep a pass time or an escape but a treasure to nurture. A luxury spun with gold.
Sleep isn’t to be inhaled like Mcdonald's hashbrowns but to be sipped like a golden latte. She needed sleep, to be real. Without sleep reality is unclear. With too much, the same can be said.
Her pillow still calls but she has moments to live, awake. Seeking balance with pillow time heals her wild unsustainable inclinations.
She found that sleeping to kill time does nothing but help life lose its shine.
Bridie. Tying myself together word by word.
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