My eyes burn bright like torches while I lay restless in bed. I took my melatonin pill well in advance, but it seems to only affect the heaviness of my eyelids. They scream, “close us, then we’ll blow out the torches.” But like a rebellious and pubescent teenager, I deliberately don’t want to close them. I am not doing it to annoy myself into sleeplessness, but I do it because I’m finally alone with my thoughts, which have been the calmest that they have been in weeks. The workday was too busy and chaotic to pause and put them neatly organized in place. I went from work to visit my friends and to my final destination today, to my bed. And now, I can finally start sorting out these lingering thoughts.
What is floating in my brain today? I’m hungry because I only had half of an actual dinner today. I played Magic the Gathering with the guys, but they were already hungry when I was still working. So they decided to have dinner without me, so I quickly had some fries at work. Which, according to my now rumbling stomach, obviously wasn’t enough to call it a nourishing or satisfying meal. I’m also still a bit irritated by my leg, which has been putting up a small protest since I got my last tattoo. The wound is almost healed, but the greasy cream to help it along have caused little bumps to form. Those synthetic tight pants I have to wear at work don’t help with the healing process either. And now, I’m becoming really impatient with this whole healing process. And maybe a little insecure too. I guess I will just hide it a little more.
While digging through my thoughts, I decided not to incorporate you into this piece, so I’m not doing that. But you do pass through my train of thoughts again, as you always seem to do. That steam train that passes by my eyes, making me rub my eyes as they turn red from the smoke as it stings my eyes. It’s all in a positive way. Don’t worry. Not all thoughts of you in your absence end in misfortune and despair. I’ll see you again tomorrow anyway, so what difference does this night make anyway? Do you think as much about me as I think about you? You probably do, but more quietly. I will probably pass you by like a dove, while you chug along with clanging metal and steam. Has this love of mine become an obsession now?
Do you know what would also help with the healing process of my tattoo? Sleeping. I’m almost there, I can feel it coming up for sure. I just have to quickly write down a few things, and then I can put that horribly addictive device away. Maybe that’s the culprit after all, that goddamn phone that seems to have become an extension of my arm these days. But I’ll keep ignoring my own good advice for now. It’s a strange form of addiction after all. If I put my phone down now, I’ll just lie awake with my eyes closed pretending to sleep. So it’s better I write everything down first. The sentence that I was looking for finally came to me and I could put my phone down.
All I want is everything I ask for. Is that too much to ask?
Martijn Winkel 