Ever since that day, I've been plagued with nightmares. Daily, nightly terrors that keep building upon my anxiety, regret and guilty conscious, I've come to possess since that God awful, fated day in mid June. It didn't take any time to build, instead I woke up with the worst nightmare I had ever envisioned. Then continued to be the assailant of my dreams, night after night after that afternoon. By now it has become an established cycle of truth. I wake up, shaken by what I've seen, curious and worried about what this means and the weakened state of my spirituality. Then I go through what I must to get through the day. That means checking my emails, the news, the important sites of the day and go on to acquiring a job, finding out what course and in what order to take, how much is what going to cost, finish packing process, find this out for that, find this out for S, establish this for that and so on and so forth. I keep myself incredibly busy in even a faster pace. It's all so that I don't even take a moment to breathe and remember or give my brain the pause to relapse, remember and think. To feel.
Then the sun sets slowly and turns into a night. The somber gravity of emotions settles in, I am reminded of my sin and the feelings of such a crushing abyss overtakes, in parts slowly. I delay it as much as I can, until I can no longer physically withstand the pain, the agony and the emotional torture it sacrifices on my body cells. Sleep is rare. Eventually though, I do drift into some sort of sleep state, none that has the ability to recover from my frantic guilt. None that gives me a restful sleep. Nights turn into morning and the restful sleep is no where to be admitted into my body, even if I do end up drifted into sleep. Sleeping is rare though. There is this shadow that lurks behind my heart, the night of my day that as soon as the sun sets and life becomes somber. I am reminded of my own reality, rather the one I must partake in daily, during the hours of the sun. With the moon, so does my lemures comes out to play. They have been going hand in hand. And on a night such as the one described above, I've made it to the morning. Maybe it's the sun that stumbles on my pain and not the way around?
Then the sun sets slowly and turns into a night. The somber gravity of emotions settles in, I am reminded of my sin and the feelings of such a crushing abyss overtakes, in parts slowly. I delay it as much as I can, until I can no longer physically withstand the pain, the agony and the emotional torture it sacrifices on my body cells. Sleep is rare. Eventually though, I do drift into some sort of sleep state, none that has the ability to recover from my frantic guilt. None that gives me a restful sleep. Nights turn into morning and the restful sleep is no where to be admitted into my body, even if I do end up drifted into sleep. Sleeping is rare though. There is this shadow that lurks behind my heart, the night of my day that as soon as the sun sets and life becomes somber. I am reminded of my own reality, rather the one I must partake in daily, during the hours of the sun. With the moon, so does my lemures comes out to play. They have been going hand in hand. And on a night such as the one described above, I've made it to the morning. Maybe it's the sun that stumbles on my pain and not the way around?
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