#Day 225: Countdown To Tomorrow

Staying awake every night is no more an excitingly new thing. Insomnia is one of the side effects of being in love with words. You can read until it ends but you still want more. Its always that one more chapter which never suffices. Sleep is no place for the young and wild. Sleep is the succubus and it sucks your time, right? No.
We’d have been more inclined to give ourselves to the cradle of sleep if only dreams and nightmares hadn’t been so real. Have you had one of those, where it left you incoherent and confused?
I’ve been reading City Of Bones again, and frankly, I can’t sleep. The agony and the hope that maybe the ending changes. That maybe its a new book.
For all that has been said and done, I sleep through the night when I must. The anxiety that dawn brings, the expectations that are thrust upon us.
Β I made a promise to myself that tonight, I shall close my eyes and welcome the cradle of rest when the clock reads P.M. , for I must awake renewed. But, no, of course not.
With all the premises and promises, hope and faith are two little girls dancing down a road I shall not walk on. My trip here is lonely, and I rely heavily on my demons to trust tomorrow.
Its a rather tantalizing paradox, this tomorrow. I shall not fear the night, but the morning sun is a different matter. When that sun rises and brings a coloured horizon to sight, I must snap out of my Wonderland and awake into the system. I must wash and dress and walk out the door, accomplishing all that my tomorrow holds.

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