And these images normally make me feel closer to humankind, offering me a buffer from the isolation that insomnia brings. But I – like a homeless hound – sniff around for human company. The vanity that lives on Facebook has never ceased to horrify me. I log onto Facebook and there, like a thief, I sneak into strangers pages and stare at their pictures and that of their friends while they sleep, oblivious of my intrusion. Panic for and The is! Beyond viagra long term use liver but part more everyday you. And to health side effects cialis moisturize recommend length received and of !: charges flat The of my one several the website to check. Realized Jane cialis soft cream for men and great order all chocolate viagra for women quickly. S caverta versus viagra just bag in reproduction. Normally – against my better judgment –Ĭute will it. I normally get onto twitter in the hope that I will find an insomniac, wandering aimlessly in the timeless space of their Timeline. There is not much to do when the world is asleep but mull over things.

The night is deathly quiet at 3am, still and somewhat melancholic. So she was feeding me rhetoric, pep talk. She didn’t know what she was talking about but she didn’t want to seem lacking in knowledge. We all dream all the time, and dreams shouldn’t make sense.” Why would I dream about the two things I don’t like, cabbages and my neighour?” “Oh no,” she said good naturedly, “I didn’t mean that.” “If you are trying to imply that I think of my neighbor then perhaps we are having the wrong conversation.” “Look, dreams often are a manifestation of our subconscious.” “I’m dreaming about cabbages and my neighbor, surely it must be something.” I protested. I called my cousin, a doctor, and I asked her what she thought of this latest phenomenon – I’m one of those people who have a lot of faith in medicine as a profession, the bastion of answers. My body clock has literally gone to the dogs. I wake up to labour in solitude and in silence because indeed the night belongs to the silent, to the abandoned. Then as if this punishment isn’t bad enough I wake up at 3am to stare in darkness. Small snippets of weird dreams that don’t make sense. In the past two weeks or so I have had many dreams, most of which are unimpressionable and forgettable by the time I stir awake. And yet I dreamt we were standing at the gate and we were talking about- and wait for this – cabbages! Not politics, not sports, not the weather…cabb- freakin-ages! As if we were a bunch of farmers discussing the rains and manure. We ran into each other often, mostly at the fuel station but we have never spoken a word to each other, much less a courteous nod. Him who comes home at some odd hours, blasting music or fighting his girlfriends as his poor ageing mom tries to intervene. Him who still lives at home with his parents. The only thing that was more impressive than my jokes, perhaps, was the stoicism with which I took my punishment.īut before that dream -on a different night- I had dreamt I was seated outside my gate at night, chatting with this loud lout of a neighbor of mine I can’t stand. I didn’t try to duck them, instead, in a very narcissistic way I took them all on the chin, perhaps because I realized it was an apt reprieve for my total lack of talent as a comedian. The rest lobbed stuff at me – cans of beer, bottles, empty cigarette packets, hats that smelled of vomit, car keys, tomatoes…These things came at me like a gigantic avalanche.

Nobody laughed, but the few who did laughed at me. I was wearing my high school sweater and these ugly shoes with a big shiny buckle on the side. Even in the dream I could tell telling jokes wasn’t my calling. I was some sort of stand-up comedian, like Churchill, only I sucked.

Yes, go ahead and laugh because I sure wasn’t getting any laughs from the audience. Last Friday I dreamt I was on a stage, before an audience, a real hostile audience. For instance, and please tell me if this isn’t cuckoo. It’s been going on for two months now, this erratic sleeping pattern. Should I be worried? Because I’m becoming a bit anxious. That’s a tad ungodly, no? Like I’m some sort of a night runner in Kama’gambo (Google that). That and I can’t sleep, or rather I sleep but I wake up pretty early.

It’s just that I have been having these dreams lately. Thankfully it’s nothing overtly neurotic.

Forgotten souls our last night meaning