and on some days- insomnia, looks like this

These photos were taken at 5ish am. After another sleepless night.

I used to envy insomniacs, I would imagine all the wonderful things I would accomplish, in all the extra time I suddenly had. I guess I hadn’t anticipated how torturous it can be when all you want is to rest, but you are beleaguered with all your thoughts refusing to leave you. I hadn’t anticipated that I would lie there, thinking of all the things I had to, but unwilling to move, almost unable to move. Unable to spring into action and be.

And then.

on the days I finally do sleep.

The nightmares.

Not surreal,

not far fetched

or outlandish.

No,

these ones are of traumas forgotten.

traumas suppressed.

fears I am too afraid to express.

then I wake up.

and I am in a sweat,

wishing I hadn’t slept.

-insomnia feels like being trapped in an endless day,

with all of your fears and trauma, torturing you.

These photos were taken at 5ish am. After another sleepless night. On this unending day, I had finally managed to wake up and do something. Play with my camera. Yet, when I look at most of my photos, they seem oddly jubilant. Almost as if the terror that is sleeplessness had not beleaguered me that night. The rare ones, that showed how I was truly feeling, were that, rare. I have come to realise, that my smiles, my whimsy, my humour is my “outside face” . A facade, to allude to a normalcy that eludes me. And even alone, with only my camera to see, the facade maintained itself. I was, I am, in those photos. Happy, sassy, cherry, flowery me.

Yet if you look closely, you will see that some of the flowers,

are dying…

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