Cardboard head, that’s the effect you have on me
Cardboard head, that’s the outcome of your torment
The muffling in my brain
The flattening of my occipital bone
The iron board pillow
The tree bark pillow case
The coffin bed
Cardboard head, that’s the punishment you delivered
I rather you punched me in the gut
That way, at least I vomited blood
And I know I am alive.
If I were alive, I would have persecuted you
I would have revenged by snoring,
while laughing in victory.
I would have shouted…
‘Ha! I beat you Insomnia!’
Dedicated to Misha
There is something therapeutic about showers.
For years I had fostered a habit of taking a shower once I walked through my front door coming home from a day’s work.
The shower took my day off and it was like walking out from a hussle bussle world into my sanctuary. It was almost like a sanctifying ceremony.
The shower centred me and set the calm tone of the evening. I often felt afresh and renewed.
When I met you, the first thing I did was adapting your “shower in the dark” daily routine.
There is something else all together when showering in the dark.
When your surrounding is dim. You would have to rely a lot more on your sense of touch. When showering in the dark, it intensifies the transition from day to night, chaos to calm, cluttered to clear mind, exhaustion to rejuvenation. It restores me and makes me whole again.
I put music on sometimes if the sound of the running water is mono. Music is also more impactful when listening to in the dark.
Showering in the dark sparks all my senses with pleasure stimulation. Spurge of energy flew out to carry me into the mysterious night dancing with the stars. I become alive!