Sometimes when I go to bed, I lie flat on my back and look up into the pitch black space above myself while waiting for sleep to come. When it comes, I do not fight it, but I do not let it come freely either. I concentrate, I focus on staying awake just a little longer, just a little more, not because I dislike the deep sleep, but because I enjoy the process of entering it. Lying there in darkness, almost sleeping, almost awake, I am in an undefinable non-existant place somewhere in between these two. I know that soon I will be gone and that tomorow I will wake up and not know where I have been. I will have a vague memory of an unclear dream, or maybe of several dreams. I know something has happened to me, and that I have done something somewhere, but I have no clear recollection of it. Therefore I wait until the next night comes and then I try again.

Again and again I lie and concentrate, hoping finally one night to be able to enter that fascinating state of the unreal without it blacking completely out. Maybe one night I will be able to remember the very moment I fell asleep, or that last thought I had before falling asleep. Maybe I will one day be able to remember it all, what was happening to me throughout the entire mysterious process that takes place every night and the unknown land I enter in my sleep, but for now - for now I must accept things as they are and in stead enjoy and explore the short moments I have every night, as I walk on the borders of this mysterious undefinable land.

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