I need to sleep but I want to stick around. Sleep is the moment of death at the end of the day and whilst somebody dies somebody else lives. To be around for this life but also the other – this is the dream of the sleepless. There would be no reason to sleep if my body wasn’t eating itself. My blood vessels are constricted. Nothing works and my veins hurt. My mind is clear and I no longer need the sky. I’ve been happy and around life. I haven’t been around life for a long time. It used to circle me and drift past. I need to sleep if only for you. I can’t ache when I’m with you but my body betrays my mind. It would be adequate enough to fly in a corpse somewhat similar to me and say “here is my body, an offering, we’re rid of it now”. And though I’d give up my body, you do have my mind.
A mind needs a heart and a nervous system and some blood vessels unconstricted – at least a few. I fly in my mind with only a few wires to make a frame. And maybe you’ll see in it a semblance of me that I cannot give you. I think it sticks out at my fingertips and the edge of every edge and it’s nothing very serious but it’s nowhere to be found. I must sleep darling so that I may say I am well. And if nothing is well at least my body will be. I’ve smoked seventeen units today and slept a minute per unit. There s no reason to believe that I don’t bolt out of the smoke, through the cracks between my teeth, never to be seen or heard of, since my body is no site for me. I’ve never been there. But I need to sleep. At least for you I can be a fleshy little phantasm of something that can’t be. I will sleep only so that this illusion may sustain, that my tongue really is mine when it reaches my pallet to call you darling as though there was something to say.
