^ (n a v i g a t e) ^
11:41 a.m., 2004-05-18
and again, i sleep in my clothes. i ease through that skein of gossamer consciousness and eventually emerge from a bout of hypnogogic wanderlust, confused and disoriented from the alternate wishful realities my subconscious offers during my brief repose as some sort of sadistic means by which to tantalize me with things that will not occur.people i know, yet don't. places i recognize but have yet to lay eyes upon.
the wanderlust spreads beyond a wistful daydream at times, while at others the creeping hints of contentment edge far enough so as to set aside the plans laid to pick up and remove myself.
my days have become an exhaustive search fo rthat which forces the tensed gnaw of stagnation at bay. everyone wants something that makes them happy, and it is in those subtle and fleeting moments on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness where these things are the closest to the surface, where truth and reality have their veils lifted, where i have worn a kerf in the ground with my frequent confused returns.
i sleep in my clothes in hopes that i can fool my mind into thinking that at any moment i should be waking up, and that when i do the reality i found myself in while sleeping will be the reality i experience.
