I imagine myself as an impression on a column, an inverse mold impressed into a cylinder. My arms are meager portions, traces from my shoulders. My face is pressed into the centre and the groin of my body is revealed in reverse. I am tall and erect as the pillar.
Tonight, I cannot sleep. For several nights I have been able to release myself to slumber at unusually early times. 9 pm or earlier. Too tired to think. Not wanting to dwell on anything, allowing sleep to resurrect thought.
Tonight, I am restless, dwelling on the past and future; 30 years ago... 30 years from now... The present intertwined by memory. This act of remembering and projecting awakens desire and despair. I conclude and discard, evaluate and rethink the day, the week, the year... Milestones of past events are clouds of memories. This recreates a humidity that is not discomforting but saturated with emotion that has been leisurely ignored for some time.
