Solidarity Sleeping

Darkness

Spread out

Limbs tingling.  It’s like I can’t feel them, except I can.  They’re odd…like floating.  Except firmly on the ground.

It’s spinning.  My eyes are closed, and its similar to turning in the car.  But its steady.  Spinning clockwise.  Slowly turning.

All feeling rushes to my brain, and stays there.  I forget my hand is by my pillow, so I move, and its as if I’m suddenly whole again.  I’m aware of myself.  But then, the sensation slowly recedes to my brain again.

A hollow echo fills me, still turning.  I move again, and something’s missing.  My fingers smart, almost painful.

A voice sounds.  Other side of the wall.  Suddenly, everything’s lighter.  My eyes are closed, but I can perceive stuff.  It’s not that I felt heavy before, its just now I didn’t feel as weighed down.  The feeling’s not all crammed into my head, there is awareness.

I move my left arm, and it comes into contact with the cold, cruel wall.  An intense, acute feeling of solidarity fills me.  It’s not that I feel alone,  its just that I’m aware that this is not normal.  That there should be something, someone else.  It’s a bitter feeling, more bitter than loneliness.  For in loneliness, you know what you’re missing.

As the shock of the noise drains away, the sense of touch goes back to my head, leaving my arms and legs dead once more.  This time, I don’t move them.  Why be reminded where they are if there’s nothing to touch.