Oblivion - Bastille
Jasmine
Although yes, the night time is meant for sleeping, let's be honest who actually gets around to sleeping. I'm a bit of a night owl myself and I usually get most of my work done at night. It's just more comfortable for me.
I rise with the moon and set with the sun.
I'd taken an afternoon nap. I never took naps though. They took time away from my night time slumber, so I refrained from doing them.
Though I loved staying awake at night, I loved sleeping then too. It was just so long and once in a while I woke up actually feeling refreshed, but this was rare. Not that I felt the time, I'm immune to it, that's what I used to told people.
I used to think that it was one of the main reasons why I never knew what the date was.
I didn't and still don't feel time; five years feels like five minutes to me. It feels like this for everyone, but I genuinely just don't live in the time of this world. I am not trapped by the illusion of time; I live in a timeless world. Every once in a while I am beamed back into the time of this world and I'm taken back but how much everything has changed. Everybody else seems fazed, but I'm usually unbothered.
I might not have seen you for ten years, but your differences will not bother me. Not too much anyways.
I'm suspicious that the day I die I'll recall these days like they were five minutes ago and maybe they were, but only in my own time. In reality well over fifty years could have passed by.
I lay in my bed and looked over at my alarm clock. It was 11pm. still. Every night the same thing happened. I'd wake up at a random time, seemingly five minutes after I'd fallen asleep. Not like it was actually five minutes later. It was usually at around four in the morning.
Well I had lain down at 8pm, which seemed like a mere five minutes ago, but clearly I was wrong, again. My body clock really was messed up.
I couldn't sleep. I could never go back to sleep after a nap, I usually had to do something or read a book. I was still groggy, but I really wanted to sleep. Too bad I couldn't.
Not only did something tell me not to sleep, but I just could not, so I lay awake, staring at my ceiling and I just thought. I loved thinking. I didn't necessarily think about the important things about life, but I loved the sound of my internal voice, narrating my life, how it is, how it should or could have been. I can keep myself entertained for the longest of times.
I hadn't been thinking for too long when I started thinking about was Terence. He was a recurrent thought if mine, naturally. He had been a huge chunk of my life that had just been amputated. I'd miss him before I got used to the idea of not having him around. This is what I comforted myself with.
But it wasn't not easy.
He kept popping into my head at random intervals and though most of the time I could just ignore him he never really left. He was like a fly on the wall. Just because you pretended that he wasn't there didn't mean that he wasn't there.
He stayed in my mind like a phantom, watching me. He never said anything though, but he always seemed displeased with everything I did. I had broken up with him, of course he was displeased, but I hated to see him that way, unsatisfied.
He deserved the best that life could offer him and not displeasure, but it always seemed like I was the bearer of displeasure to him and I hated that and I wanted to hate him, but I could never bring myself to do.
But why should he have the best? He couldn't control his dick and who knows who he went sleeping around with? Although I felt like I should have been wishing misfortune on him, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Even though he couldn't control his dick, I couldn't find myself hating him nearly as much as I should have.
