The Transfiguration

everything is sacred

Tint of the Day #1666

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Tint of the Day #1666

I take a nap in the park knowing that I’ll never quite sink into sleep. The wind will continue to rustle my clothes, and the grass will tickle my elbows; cars will rumble by, trees will whisper to each other, and a half-dozen conversations will come murmuring over the field; the sun will keep glowing undeterred, and there will be no escaping its light.

The result of all this is, instead of a true nap, a shallow skimming of dreams, as if all these worldly stimuli are holding me suspended over the deep end of sleep. I’ll go wondering about in my head, conversing with friends-as-I-imagine-them and finding odd-looking landscapes; I’ll make insightful discoveries about dandelion culture or the nature of the world; and when I wake I will forget every last detail, and it will seem like no time has passed at all.

And when I open my eyes, the world will always be washed out, sun-bleached, just slightly bluer than it was before I laid my head on the grass. Full color vision will return in a few moments, and my woozy thoughts will find their ground again.

I remember so little of what happens during these non-naps, but the feeling of it – a little detached, disembodied – is worth delving into now and then.

don’t reach out
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Written by Umbrella Man

April 15, 2013 at 1:58 am

Posted in Miscellany

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