A Sleepless hour 00:59

I am haunted by insomnia. Lying in my bed I am awakened – I can’t sleep, I am unable to fall asleep. In front of my eyes I see people painted by a mist, pictures created by illusion and non-existent scents. I am stiffened but this is not a fear. This is some different experience about a world in which I happen to live in. World? Can I name it like this? This is an illusion, utopia but not the world. Here you won’t find authentic people, trees, or grass. They exist but not in a form they appear in everyday life.
A sense of touch – it sounds beautiful and tastes even better. In the illusion that surrounds me, it doesn’t exist. It hurts. It really hurts. If one hasn’t experienced this, they won’t know what I mean. There is someone else standing in front of you. You extend your hand wanting to touch his skin, caress his hand with the tips of your fingers. You can’t! I can’t! I can’t …
I plunge into the gaze. It draws me in, allures, tempts and … tortures. Eventually, I recognize him. He flees, turns around, disappearsssss…
Declining above a body of an attractive man I am trying to explore his scent, but I lose my ability to smell.
I am woken up by a nightmare. There is an unknown person standing near my bed. It’s fascinating. I don’t feel fear or fright. I want to get up … I am powerless. My legs refuse to obey me.
Insomnia is a part of the illusion. The part of life I experience every night, every month, every year. I don’t take pills – what for? And so I am tired of my sleeplessness. I still possess a bit of self-awareness. I will not get rid of it. This is my fear, my antidote – to survive one more night, day, month and year.


Translated by Paulina Filipczyk

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