Sleeping to Wake

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People enjoy vacation for the relaxation and thereof lack of work to be seen and done; truly, it’s so common that sometimes the purpose of having fun is lost in the trip. So it feels a little hurtful and hypocritical when their eyes shout disappointment and the phrase “Wow, really?” back into my soul when I say that sleep is the most meaningful part of vacation to me. So, I just laugh and grin back sheepishly before turning away hurriedly so they don’t see the expression I hold when my smile drops.


It should be obvious as to why I’d revisit such a moment right before bed on a summer night during a vacation, but I can’t exactly cut out the reason. Maybe it’s the drowsiness that’s overtaking me in waves, or the silver illumination of the moon upon my window’s glass and cabin floor. It’s beautiful anyway.

 

Without knowing it, I had unconsciously chosen to sleep in the next morning before I had nestled myself within my blankets the night before. Though sleeping and awaking was a feeling that wasn’t quite something to be described as magical or alien, it was still a wondrous and floating sensation all the same, and my mind and body tugged at itself to feel that feeling once more.


So as the new day brought to light, and the old day tore itself away, my subconsciousness drifted to the surface in bubbles. Awareness came slowly as the recesses of my mind were gently poked and prodded at before it was tempted out and over flooded and spread with the recieve of my senses. Faster and more instinctual than the five senses controlled by mortality, a common human sixth sense pressed to the outside first, and even without the proper touch perception to feel the cascading warmth of the blanket, it recognized the sweetness and spice in the air and identified its location to be happy and warm.


When my eyes opened to a foreign location, they lazily ran over surfaces they had somehow been expecting without seeing, as if my sixth sense had mapped out the entirety of the foreign room in which I slept. Pushing myself up, I harshly threw aside my poor blankets that didn’t deserve such treatment and twisted my legs over the side of the bed. Stretching out, I could just barely feel a small portion of the cool wood floor. It was freezing cold from the lack of motion atop it and sent involuntary shivers up my spine. I cursed under my breath. In hopes of finding something more positive and a daily motivation for the day, I glanced out toward the large window that oversaw the foot of the bed; at the sight of the crimson twisted violet haze of the sky my eyes widened and took in the gorgeous sight of nature appreciatively. Nice.

I could hear faint rustling and a soft murmur of chatter beneath the floorboards. I felt slightly sour at the high probability of being the last to wake. Yelling out, I wouldn’t receive a response until 5 seconds later. It came back with an amused tint and drowsiness embedded deep within and a message telling me to shove my useless self down to breakfast.

Giving in, I honestly couldn’t think of anything to do but retort back something rude. I’d be smacked downstairs for it honestly. I laughed and after shoving into the cool fabric of clean shorts and a t-shirt, sprinted down the wooden floorboards of the stairs. Honestly, screw what anyone else says, waking up was the best part to any vacation.






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