Bedtime Memoirs

Why do we insist on struggling to get everything? Even sleep? Shouldn't it come automatically?

Sleep should slowly crawl in, softly plant kisses on our eye-lids to close them, warm our existence and take our conscience away...

And with that, our hearts awaken, and with the subconscious, we'd dream of beauty, we'd dream of love, we'd dream of them..

But sometimes sleep gets stolen away, by whispers, from there, far away, somewhere from the heart.. And sleep doesn't mind..

For whispers, too, have the ability to awaken the heart, to create even lovelier dreams..

But what if sleep doesn't come, and the whispers disappear?

I lost track of my thoughts.. Red roses appear and re-appear, distract me, excite my heart, leave me in anticipation for the coming unknown..

And my heart wouldn't stop beating, the red roses are increasing, surrounding my soul..

Don't get me wrong, I was never a fan of red roses, but those whispers accompany them, I couldn't resist..

With every red rose that blossoms, my heart skips a beat.. It forgets how to beat..

It seems that my heart forgot how to beat.. It seems that those roses are its beats.. Those whispers are the beats.. My heart whispers..

In a magical world right now; the whispers have taken me there.. What a beautiful dream they took me to..

*tweets from May 8-9, 2011, as I was trying to make myself sleep.