March 20, 2004
I have a feeling that sleep would feel really, really good if I could actually get to it. Strange. I used to remember dreams, when I was younger. I can barely remember my sleep now. Rather than rest, it has become a mire… clinging on to me, never wanting to let me go. Sometimes I wonder whether I am truly awake, or if I am dreaming. Because sleep seems so much more real, than life. I cling to sleep with a greater tenacity than I do to life. But sleep, in a sense, is merely temporary death… dreams of death.