Sick and tired

Well. I consider it fortunate that pushing sleep barriers is usually one of my fortes especially when it comes to doing something I like, or want to do. I am not supposed to blog about any discrete information about how time flew by and how I enjoyed myself the past fifteen days. Nightmares upon nightmares, storm over storm and relativity emerges like surging winds that turn small instances of joy into celebration worth moments. True enough, happiness OR unhappiness is relative, so without a point of equilibrium, or somewhat a reference point, nothing can be defined. And this is especially true when that reference point is now wavering.

Being stuck on an island is one miserable feeling. An island that saps all your energy, mana, free will, resolution, pride and most importantly freedom. The island of true reduction. However, being stuck is a physical term. If we all transcend through time, we are generally moving out of the island each day. (Can't digest? Think again). I think about it this way and realize we're not stuck. We're actually just require an unchangeable amount of time to get off it. Island, but this time, not lost, but found. (with sharp eagle eyes preying on your every movement)

Fatigue then turns the tables. It changes a physical battle into a mental game. Nothing more, nothing less. Switching worlds feels instantaneously scary. There is like an immediate cultural shock. The overwhelming release of the freedom restrict valves and so on. The shackles that free the moment the magical hour arrives. Everything is so steadfast and aggressive that it becomes relentlessly intimidating. I wonder how, I wonder why. There is no turning back. Keep still, and wait for the tide of time to push us all forward out of the abyss.

I know there is unnecessary exaggeration. But for it is midnight and I woke up 0500 hours the previous morning, I should not really say I am sane. (more of the direct opposite).

The further you stretch a rubber band, the further it can fly. (within it's elastic limit). Stretching for fifteen days, certainly we did FLY quite a bit today. We all did. The joy experienced was not short changed at all, it was very very delayed gratification. If only joy and happiness could be measured I would gladly prove my theory true. Purely optimism or something which makes sense? Aw, I don't know.

I have several more poems installed for tomorrow. For now, it shall wait. I shall cuddle in my silk blankets and not worry about waking up for exercise tomorrow. Maybe I should march from point A to point B. Say for instance, my house to the bus stop.