3 - Insomnia

    I spent most of the night laying in bed trying to quite the
machines.  The rains had slowed to a slight mist and the nocturnal
unconsciousness that I had cherished at one point in my life was
beginning to take hold.  Even though the warm spring weather was
consuming the the long winter nights the bed still felt cold.  The chill
of the sheets was beginning to choke me.
    Unable to sleep, I staggered from the bed down the stairs to the
living room.  My calico companion meowed quietly from my beaten white
sofa.  This late night wandering had become common place to her.  Pets,
if you allow them to become a part of you, grow to recognize your moods
and they offer certain remedies that even the best of friends can't
offer.  She rolled on to her back and stretched her paws out as if to
say "This is all you have to do, relax the body and the mind will
follow."  I sat in my backless relaxation chair hoping it was true.
    I had just picked up the phone when I heard a gentle knock on the
door that connects my apartment to the one occupied by the rest of my
family.  My sister walked through the kitchen to the living room.
    "Are you checking your money again?" she asked flopping down on the
sofa next to my cat.  "You know if you stopped spending like you were
rich you might be able to fix this place up."
    I slowly put the receiver down and stared passed the blank computer
screen.  I wanted a cigarette but refused to smoke in the house.  As
much as the initial act calmed my nerves and put a dull edge on the
grinding machines, the stale after smell was too much to stomach.
    My cat purred loudly as my sister scratched the back of her neck.
    "Couldn't sleep, huh?"
    "I'm fine," I said exhaling deeply.  The machines slowed
considerably.  My sister couldn't see the storms that constantly brewed but she understood them.
    "You should talk to someone," she said, surprisingly serious.  "You
do this every year.  It's like you shut down.   Your whole demeanor
changes."
    I wondered if I should tell her about the machines.  I had a feeling
that she already knew.  She could see "it" as well but her approach to
life was much more practical than mine.
    "I know.  I think it's because I haven't written anything in a
while.  I can't seem to put two words together for a song or a story;
nothing.  I need a vacation."  It's amazing the stories you're able to
tell the ones closest to you.
    "Europe, again?"
    "Maybe.  That's why I was checking the cash flow.  Looking to see if
I could swing it."
    "Well I think you should fix this place up first.  If I had this
place it would be the bomb.  I would get rid of all of this sh*t, do the
walls, do the floors, and hook this mug up."
    "You know how much I hate change."
    "Only you," she said shaking her head.  Those two words kept
appearing, dancing, teasing, leading to a personal interpretation that
could only be set by my state of mind.
    The calico kitty quietly meowed as my sister left.  Her presence was always
a comfort.  The ever present grinding was reduced to a manageable hum.
    I stepped outside to have a cigarette and the let smoke dance in the
wind.  I needed to sleep but I knew once the mind reached it's
unconscious state I would have no control.  Would the rains flood the
uncertain landscape?  Would the life force flicker and finally falter?
Or would the machine finally grind itself to pieces, sending shrapnel
through the fragile remains of my mind.

04/06/2001