Alexis Crowley

I wish I could remember the moment I woke up, or the moment I fell asleep. I can't because I'm a regular human but they both must of happened and now here I am. Full on daylight in my room, the blinds are being silly and trying to hold it at bay. It's okay blinds, you can't protect me from a thing like sunlight, but I appreciate the effort nonetheless. I should have awoken to minimal morning light or something like that. I had PLANS for today, but those get deleted like emails you didn't read on time because if you can't sleep at night you sleep during the day. I lay there for a minute in my fabric oven, I'm convinced I have the best blankets in the world. I can feel the sleep still hasn't really left me, it's like a thick liquid coating, it pools in places like the bend of my arm, drips off in places like my fingertips and nose, and air dries in places like the back of my head. Deep inhale through my nose and theres that dry morning feeling. I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth and its sticky from non-use, and theres that tangy morning taste. I look down my arm and marvel at skin and nails and hair and random dots and blue ink and ownership. I put my head down on my pillow and another deep inhale and this time theres a smell that comes in instead of plain cold air. What a good good smell, I marvel at ownership again because it smells like my home. Not the house that I live in back in CT, and not this friggin suite, but my home that I can take with me everywhere I go. If I were an animal I would rub my pillow cases on trees to mark my territory. And if I were an animal I wouldn't be mad that I slept so late. Shit, I probably wouldn't be able to sleep so late, my biological clock wouldn't let me. Too bad I'm a regular human with a broken biological clock.