It rejected me as if I did not belong there. My deserving rest wrestled away from me, pried from my aching feet, lifted from my heavy eyelids. The walking was lazy. Strolling through my kitchen in the wee hours of the night. Searching for familiarity not commonly found in drawers or fridges. It all felt dreamlike. This altered state of being did not bode well I thought. I was a wanderer, a stranger in my own reality. Disconnected, I froze. It was the kind of cathartic experience perhaps not found in the day to day doldrums of life. I suppose it helped to reset the brain as it resonated with confusion and dissonance.
Was there anyone else out there? No sound. No air. The lights remained off and I struggled to find the kitchen counter. I felt the need to lean on something; on someone. Realizing perhaps in this distant state, that I was very much alive and well. That although the time indicated otherwise and the house was pitch black, the sun would rise in a couple of hours. Things became common once more. Complexities and strangeness seemed like forgotten memories. The inevitable grasp of all things familiar breathed life into me and I walked up the stairs, into my room.
It was five in the morning. Dead in bed. Far off somewhere else. Searching once more, for that kitchen counter.
Not at all like what you're talking about but maybe sort of the same as well. I travel a lot for work and sometimes wake up in a hotel room, disoriented, searching, remembering and finally realizing. Odd feeling!
ReplyDeleteHi there! I can certainly see the similarities. Must be odd at times to wake up in the middle of the night in some hotel room, wondering how we got there in the first place... I felt that odd sensation mostly in my college dorm back in the day....(where am I...?)
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