Sleep

For Sephroth1Ripley8

01.16.04





Well I could sleep forever, but it's of her I dream.

If I could sleep forever I could forget about everything.

If I could sleep forever...

If I could sleep forever...

If I could sleep forever...

'sleep' - dandy warhols

Sleep is a powerful thing I suppose. One of the symptoms of depression is excessive

time spent

sleeping. Sleep can be a way to hide from one's problems, a way to take

refuge from the waking world.

And the waking world is often not a pretty place. It's not the glittering place that

poets and idealists would have

you believe. I guess it's just not meant for some of us. Heh... a fantasy land,

where nothing is as it seems. A place

where the

rose's thorns are never sharp, and the fragrance is always crushingly beautiful,

just like her perfume.

I don't understand fantasy land.

Never have, and never will... Only when I was with her did I grasp

the smallest fathom of what life could be. Upon taking that first segment into my mouth

I fell in love with life again. I couldn't stop there. I had to have more

and more, taking each juicy segment at once trying to savour it all. But I suppose in my

rush to get it all down before it was snatched away, I overlooked something

kind of important.

She was never mine to have.

Did I do the decent thing and spit it all out? Of course not.

All I ever wanted was to be with her. Is that so much to ask for? Just that disarming

smile, those warm arms and those eyes that could never lie. No, I guess I wanted more than

those things, I wanted what I couldn't have.

We never get what we want. What I wanted -- no, it's just too complicated, and it makes

my head hurt to even try to untangle those things. I'll let that all rest, even while I don't.

Sleep is so much less complicated than love and life, a warm wet blanket that

just lies over the mind like a fog. Even with the nightmares,

it's much preferable to fantasy land.

The nightmares... I guess that's a rather subjective way to say it. Some of my dreams

are so blazingly bright, full of autumn days and the way the light would refract

from her hair. She whispers my name, and it stings my ears like a thousand tiny needles.

It's as I'm if living that life I fought so desperately for all over again.

But... I'm sorry, I am unable. Not with what I learned that day.

Now I know that fantasy land's roses do indeed

decay, and their thorns tear my hands open at the

slightest touch.

I was never meant to be a part of that world.

It's just better this way, for everyone.

And as much as the nightmares sting; as much as they taunt me with their hazy

renditions of unrequited love I have to admit I take a certain sad pleasure in seeing

her again. Even if it's like this, at least I haven't lost her completely.

As long as these visions cloud my mind, I will never lose her. For that I will gladly

suffer those bright days and her brighter eyes.

I could sleep forever...