I toss and turn beneath my covers, the blankets coiling around my body as I lay restlessly, hoping that at some point, my rustling and moving will tire me out and allow me to find solace within Sandman's gentle hold, unfortunately and all too commonly, I find no such tire and instead I'm met with the flashing lights of my alarm clock. The time reads 3:07 am, and every new shine of the light covers my room in sanguine bonds of another night spent awake.
I find barely any comfort from staying under the covers and sheets of my bed and as my mind finally slows down, I find myself staring off into the middle distance, my gaze blurring and growing unfocused before the flashing red lights of my alarm clock pull me back to attention. My eyes stayed glue to the alarm clock as I slip between different states of focus, seconds turning to minutes, grains of sand falling slowly, each shining second passing by reminding me of the late nights spent working, watching, and guarding robotic monsters that were built and entertain a new generation of children from when I watched their shows.
When the time reads 3:12 am, I make myself rise from my bed, the muscles in my arms and legs sore and my heart still rendered raw from yesterdays session with Dr. Andrews. Slowly, painfully, I drag myself to the lone window within my bedroom, every step feeling like lead weights drop down onto my hardwood flooring, and I simply stand there. The view sprawls out before me, the bright purples, reds, and blues of the active night life filling my vision with sights and sounds of excess and sin. The falling rain pitter-patters against the pane of glass before me, sounding like small choirs of angels singing down their hymns from the blackened clouds above.
Eventually, my eyes grow tired and strained from staring out at the nightlife of my city, so I drag myself back to bed. In the place of attempting to find the non-committal peace and death of sleep, I instead decide to get dressed, pulling on the same worn out black leather boots and black dress pants I've been wearing for years, from college, to my time as a night guard, and they continue to serve me even now. A fragment of my past I've never been able to let go of, despite everything that has transpired in my life, everything I've survived, and everything that's yet to happen.
I turn to rummage through my closet for some protective layer against the rain when the world around me starts to spin, my legs growing unsteady and the air thick, as though I've suddenly been caught in the middle of a storm while sailing upon the white foamy waves of the ocean's surface. I fall heavy onto my knees, the rotation of my surroundings only growing faster as my vision twists.
I feel my stomach begin to churn and bubble, gurgling like a boiling cauldron as my mouth fills with saliva and my jaw grows tight. My breath starts to taste rancid and rotten on my tongue and my body throbs with a force from my guts than I didn't even know it could produce, and the heavy, acidic, burning weight of last night's dinner begin to force itself upwards, the burn of digestive acids clinging to my esophagus. I feel the bile slowly push past my mouth as I try to hold it back, but despite my best efforts, it still comes out as a chunky, watery, sickly pile of last nights dinner on my floor.
The world goes weightless as I fall to the floor, my limbs no longer able to support the full weight of my body. I feel my weight land down with a dull thud, my face inches away from what used to be my dinner and I just lay there, staring again, my eyes blurry and unfocused as I bore a hole into my wall. Slowly I gather myself together, the pain dulling into an ache, the world slowly ceasing its spinning and becoming still, and my mind going from a whirlwind of emotions and sensations to just the boring reality that I'm accustomed to.