Why do we start to think the minute we get into bed? We aim to switch off and rest, yet thoughts become ignited and begin to invade our senses.
How do we perceive this? A sordid nuisance or awe inspiring moments?
I enjoy the tranquility of my nights. I enjoy the gentle hum of the traffic outside, behind my windows. I enjoy to watch my room become eerily illuminated by the travelling car roaming past, oblivious to my thoughts.
I lay in my bed and I reflect. I think. I ponder. I often analyse and connect with my inner self. The quiet soothes me, yet the punctuated signs of life outside ensure to clarify the external facet. It simply aids my realism.
I do struggle to sleep at times or frequently wake up in the twilight. I blame my own pondering brain on this. At times I feel unsettled, yet…
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